


Harry Potter and the Gaining of Faith

by chadmaako



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-06 08:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 193,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5409173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chadmaako/pseuds/chadmaako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is a slayer. Born to fight the demons, vampires and the forces of darkness. Now, because of bad luck and bad mistakes, she's running. He is The Boy Who Lived. Destined to destroy the Dark Lord. Now, because of a loveless home and a manipulative old wizard, he's more alone and frustrated than ever. Together, these two lost souls discover that they are far more powerful than they ever were apart. Brute strength meets magical finesse in a story of young love and...okay, I'm sorry, I just can't. It's Faith Lehane and Harry Potter, people. They don't do mushy. A slayer being dropped head first into Wizarding Britain? Shit's about to get real up in here and nothing and no one is going to be the same. Gloves are off and with Faith's help, Harry ain't buyin' what the dark lord is selling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All of my loyal readers that have been graciously wishing for this story's return.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=All+of+my+loyal+readers+that+have+been+graciously+wishing+for+this+story%27s+return.).



> Back by popular demand...
> 
> (Will be reuploading Chapter 41 after I make a few changes. Thanks for your patience...)

Faith leaned against the wall of the small, cramped quarters she'd been given aboard the massive container ship and thought. Everyone was against her. Given what she'd just put everyone through, she couldn't blame them. She had no idea where in the hell the ship was going when she boarded it in Sunnydale Harbor those months ago.

The boat had made several stops around the continental US, but she stayed on. She wanted away from everything and everyone that knew anything about her. She wanted to disappear.

The captain of the ship understood where she was coming from and actually did quite a bit to help her. She took another drag off of her cigarette and looked at the fake ID he'd given her. It was a pretty damn good fake. As was the passport he'd offered.

Of course, it wasn't for nothing. Over the course of the trip, she'd spent many a night warming his bed. To be honest, he wasn't terrible. She'd slept with worse. He had rhythm, didn't smell like a dead billy goat and gave a damn about her getting hers. He was better than nothing. And if a new life cost her a few nights of ho-hum sex, she could live with that.

She also had her fair share of problems from the rest of the boys on the crew. After the first week on the ship, a few of them decided that she needed to put out, whether she wanted to or not. Of the seven of them, six wound up in the infirmary. One of them was somewhere off the coast of the Baja Peninsula with his head on backwards. She'd given them all fair warning. The captain was pissed, but not at her. He was mad at his crew.

Word had gotten out what she did. Now everyone gave her a wide berth. Not wanting to cause any more trouble – for herself or them – she stayed in her cabin and only went to the mess hall to get her food and bring it back to her bunk.

But doing so left her alone a lot. It gave her time to think. It gave her time to mull everything over. Her thoughts always led back to Sunnydale. To  _her_. To _them_. She screwed up. After weeks of feeling angry, bitter and sore about what went down, she finally began seeing things as they were. She began seeing the truth.

Everyone failed. Not just her, not just them. Everyone. Buffy was insanely protective and guarded. Another slayer in town took her uniqueness,  _her_ responsibility. And the blonde slayer couldn't stand that. She wanted to be  _the chosen one_. Not a part of the  _chosen two_. But she was. There was nothing she could do about it and it rankled.

Willow was jealous. In her own way, deep down, she was worse than Cordelia when it came to her selfishness. She couldn't  _stand_  the idea of Buffy having a female friend that wasn't her. The snide looks, the backhanded comments, coming right out and saying that Faith had friends like Buffy, not friends like  _us_  hurt. That one word hurt Faith more than Willow could have imagined. Because of that, Faith really didn't like the redhead. Like her or not, however, Faith could respect her. Everything she was to Buffy, everything Faith knew deep down she could never be, Faith felt a pang of envy.

But worst of all was what she did to Xander. She hurt him so much worse than she did anyone else. The body swap with Buffy, in Faith's estimation wasn't even close to what she'd done to Xander. It was made all the worse because Faith felt something for him. She knew him to be a truly  _good_  person. He was the kind of man you married. The kind of man you started a life with. And she nearly choked him to death.

She reached up and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I can't ever go back.” She said, sadly. “Way too late to make up for it.”

Not for the first time, she pulled the folding knife from her pocket, flipped it open and stared at the razor sharp blade.  _It would be so easy_. She thought to herself. She contemplated just dragging the knife up her wrist and ending it. She never knew why she didn't. It wasn't that she was afraid of dying. She'd been ready to do that for quite some time. When she found out she was a slayer, she knew that a gruesome, painful screaming death was inevitable. It was the way things were for girls like her. The histories have never mentioned any slayers dying of old age. She knew she'd eventually meet something bigger, meaner and stronger than her. Hell, she already had. It was either luck, skill or divine intervention that kept her from death.

Now, she sat, yet again staring at the knife blade. And, like every time before, she sighed and flipped it closed, stuffing it back into her pocket.

A sharp rap on the metal door caught her attention. “Yeah.” She said, taking another drag off of her smoke.

The captain of the ship pushed the door open. As she had every time before, she looked him up and down. He wasn't exactly the catch of the century, but his jeans and navy blue sleeveless shirt hugged the rather fit body underneath. He was easily pushing his mid fifties, but you wouldn't know it to look at him. She knew from experience he had rough hands. The hands of a working man. His hair, going gray with age, was pulled back into a tight ponytail and was thinning a bit on top. His mustache and goatee were always neatly trimmed. She didn't care much for men with facial hair, but she had to admit, he wore it well. “Captain.” She said, nodding. “What's up?”

“Didn't see you at dinner. Wanted to make sure you was doin' alright.” He gave her a look approaching concern. “Looks like you been cryin'.” He stepped in and closed the door. “Anything you wanna talk about?”

She scooted over on her bed, inviting him to sit down. “Thinkin' about past bullshit.” She said. She pulled out the pack of Camels and offered him one.

He took it and nodded, taking the lighter she offered. “Lotta demons running through your past, I'm bettin'.” He gave her the lighter back and took a long drag. “Anything particular got you twisted up, or just general history?”

Faith actually liked the man. He was genuine. He didn't press, he didn't badger. He offered an ear if she needed it and left her the fuck alone when she wanted. She sighed, considering what to tell him. “Made some mistakes back in Cali.” She said, simply. “Ain't proud of it. Hurt a lot of people. People that…that I think were trying in their own way to get through to me.”

He gave her a nod. “Been there myself.” He looked at her. “That who you're runnin' from?”

She nodded in turn. “Mostly.”

“Nothin' you can do to change it?” He asked her. “Make it right?”

“Not now. I fucked up way too bad for that.” She said to him. “Been thinking of just ending it. Taking myself out.”

He didn't say anything for a long time. “Nah.” He offered, finally. “You got too much guts for that.”

“I've come close.” She said in argument.

“And close is the closest you'll ever come.” He looked down at her. “This might not mean anything and it's just one old man's opinion, but…” He shook his head. “I don't see you as the kind of girl that solves a temporary problem with a permanent solution. You're a tough girl. You been through some shit.” He turned more toward her. “But this is the truth, Faith and there ain't no gettin' around this. No matter how bad shit gets, no matter how hard you think you've had it, there's always someone that's been through worse. And those people are out there, right now  _living_  their lives. Not being afraid of 'em. Yeah, some of 'em probably have swallowed a gun or put a blade to their wrists. But there's no call feeling sorry for those folks. They couldn't handle it.” He shook his head again. “I don't see you fancying being called a pussy in the afterlife. It ain't in you.”

“You sure about that?”

“I've got six boys walking with limps and I'm short altogether a deckhand because you decided to fight back instead of lay down and take it.” He smiled. “Yeah, I'm damn sure about that.”

She stared at him a moment and smiled back. “You're a good guy, captain.”

“Don't let it get around. These jokers know I was soft on you, they'd mutiny.” He said to her. He rose to his feet. “I also wanted to let you know that we're getting into London in a few hours.”

Faith swallowed and looked at him with fear in her eyes. “London?”

He nodded. “Yeah. We're there to offload and then we're taking a deck full of cars back to the states. But London is a damn big city, girl. You want a place to disappear, I can't think of anyplace better. At least you'll be able to speak the language. And with that freakish upper body strength of yours, you'll have a job in no time. And that package I gave you will hold up. I made sure of that.”

She stood and ran a finger down his chest. “You've been good to me, Cap.”

“Vick.” He said, smiling. “Name's Vick.”

She pulled him down and pecked him on the lips. “Nice to meet you Vick.” She said before dropping to her knees.

It was just after midnight and Faith found herself walking the streets of London. She made damn sure she showed how much she appreciated what Vick did for her. He'd made sure that she wasn't left high and dry. She had a little over fifteen hundred pounds in her wallet. It had taken almost an hour for her to get from the Port to the heart of the city.

She meandered this way and that until she ended up at the London Waterloo train station. Given that she had a super secret organization looking for her, she boarded the first train she saw. Much like the ship, she didn't give one damn where it was going. “Surrey.” She said to herself. “Whatever. Isn't London.” She said putting the cash she needed into the machine and grabbing her ticket. She trotted to make it and flopped down onto the seat.

She watched the sun come up as the train rattled along the tracks. She sighed heavily and leaned her head back, trying to relax.

Faith spent the better part of the day in the small town of Surrey getting the lay of the land. It was quintessentially British, but she did manage to accomplish quite a bit. She was a fully licensed driver, thanks to the Mayor making certain that she attained it while she worked for him. She managed to get a job working as a driver – slash – delivery girl for a rather prominent furniture company. She also had her own flat. She was rather shocked when she learned that for seven hundred British pounds per month – roughly one thousand forty US dollars – she was only able to get a small studio.

But, given that she'd been living out of motel rooms smaller than what she had was enough to make her grateful. It was small, but it was  _hers_. On top of that it came furnished. The furnishings were all brand new and pretty nice, to be honest. She opened her wallet and saw that she still had about five hundred pounds. She nodded and left the apartment to find a place to eat.

It was just starting to darken when she hit the streets. She moved off, not really sure where she was heading. “Seems to be a pattern.” Faith said to herself as she walked.

She passed a park that had seen it's better days and shook her head. It reminded her of the parks in Boston when she was a little girl. Broken swingsets, dilapidated big toys and a host of splintered and fragmented picnic tables. “Some things never change.” She said, shaking her head. She stuffed her hands into her pockets and continued walking.

She caught sight of a group a boys moving away from the park laughing and carrying on. “Oh, look. Accidents waiting and looking for a place to happen.” She said, chuckling. They paid her no mind as they went.

She walked on finding a narrow alley to her right. Two boys, one large and fairly meaty, the other skinny and looking a bit on the scruffy side walked along in front of her. She could hear their conversation, but paid it no attention as she moved along quietly behind them.

Suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. The world around her seemed to grow darker. The boys shouted something, but she was looking around, desperate to find the reason for her slayer senses going into overdrive.

“C-cut it out! Stop doing it! I'll h-hit you, I swear I will!” Faith heard the larger of the two boys snap.

“Dudley, shut —” The smaller boy began. He didn't finish the statement before the one he called Dudley laid him out. Faith had to give the big guy credit. He had one hell of a swing. She could already tell that he'd had some training in fisticuffs.

Even though the slighter boy was leveled, he was quick to recover. “You moron, Dudley!” He shouted. He immediately began scrabbling around on the ground for something he must have dropped.

Faith decided that she'd been a spectator long enough. She ran forward, the slayer in her taking over and causing her to need to save the pair of, what she believed were innocent young boys.

“Dudley, come back! You're running right at it!” The boy on the ground shouted.

Faith was nearly to them when a horrible squealing yell sounded out in the night. She'd never heard anything like it and it chilled her to the bone. She could barely see in the blackness. But she did make out a shape in the shadows, coming closer.

“Dudley, keep your mouth shut!” The boy screamed. “Whatever you do, keep your mouth shut! Wand!” He was franticly searching for something.

Faith looked around on the ground and slid to a stop when she saw the long narrow stick a few inches from the boy's hand. “Here.” She said, lifting it and pressing it into his fist. “You got your stick, now come on.” She looked back at the figure. “We gotta get outta here.”

The boy shot to his feet. “Lumos!” He shouted. The end of his stick lit up brightly.

Faith had to turn away from the sudden brightness. “Fuck!” She said, stumbling away and rubbing her eyes. “Warn a chick next time.”

He whirled, ignoring her and shoved his wand forward. “Expecto Patronum!” He shouted intently. He was moving away from the wraith now, trying to put distance between them. What looked like a silver fog shot from the tip of the wand. The ghostly figure slowed, but continued on.

Faith wasn't sure what was supposed to happen, but it didn't look like it was going well. She snarled and rushed the figure as the boy staggered back.

“No!” The boy cried out, but it was too late. The slayer was already in motion.

For the first time in his life, he saw something he'd never seen before…or something he never thought was even possible. The girl lunged at the Dementor, and tackled it's filmy body to the ground. The creature let out a horrendous shriek as the pair went down.

“Just fuckin' die!” Faith screamed, slamming her fist down into the hooded face. She wasn't sure what lay beneath the black flowing cloak and at the moment, she really didn't give a damn. The body beneath her felt soft, almost as if it wasn't real. But she knew that whatever the thing was, it was feeling the world of pain she was putting it through.

“Harry? What's going on?” Dudley asked from his place across the alley. He still had his eyes closed and was gripping the fence like a lifeline.

The second Dementor heard the boy and raced toward him. Harry, heartened by the girl's aid, stepped forward. “Expecto Patronum!” His voice carried a fair bit more confidence. The girl had shown him that the Dementors weren't as terrifying as he had initially thought. A gossamer white stag sprang from his wand. The Dementor was upon Dudley when the enormous stag ran it down, it's tremendous antlers gouging the creature through the chest. The great animal flung the limp form of the Dementor into the air. The wraith immediately flew away to seek refuge in the dark of night.

With the same suddenness that borne it, the stag drifted away in the light. Harry turned to see the girl rising to her feet, looking off into the darkness. “Yeah, you better run, motherfucker.” She dusted her knees off and turned to look at the boy. “Um…” She said, moving toward him. “Harry, right?” She asked him.

“That's right.” He said, nodding. “I'm Harry Potter. This is my cousin, Dudley.” He turned to the boy. “You can open your eyes now, Dudley. They're gone.”

Dudley lay curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Faith growled and reached down, lifting him as if he weighed nothing. “We ain't got time for this. We gotta get out of here. There's someone coming.” She threw him over her shoulder. “Move.”

Harry furrowed his brow. “I don't hear anything.”

She pushed him toward the end of the alley. “I said  _move_!” She snapped. Harry didn't need any further prompting. They raced out of the alley toward the Dursley's home. Harry was a rather gifted runner. He'd been doing it his whole life. He was surprised to see Faith, with Dudley's tremendous bulk over her shoulder, easily keeping pace with him. Truthfully it looked as if she was keeping herself in check, trying not to outdistance him.

It took several minutes to arrive at Four Privet Drive. “Oh, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia are going to cross.” Harry said, as he made his way up to the door.

Faith didn't say anything, she simply followed along behind the boy.

The door suddenly flew open. A tall, gaunt woman with long dark hair and a very, very nasty scowl on her face appeared. She saw Dudley, slumped over Faith's shoulder and gasped as she put her hands up to her mouth in terror. “Diddy? Diddy, what's the matter?”

Faith didn't wait for an invitation. She simply barged her way into the house and moved to the sofa, setting the boy down. He was white as a sheet and still whimpering and shivering. “He was attacked.” Faith said, kneeling in front of him and checking his pulse while looking at her watch.

Vernon came running out of the kitchen, all bluster and fury. “What is this, then?” He roared. He took one look at Dudley and raced forward. “What happened, son?”

“This… _girl_  said he was attacked.” Petunia said, horrified.

Vernon whirled on Harry. “By friends of yours, no doubt.” He snapped.

“Relax, big man. Kid didn't have anything to do with it.” Faith said. She rose to her feet. “If it weren't for him…” She watched Dudley shudder. “Oh, shit.” She said, pushing the boy's parents back in time for Dudley to boot all over the coffee table and living room floor.

Vernon stepped over and roughly took Faith's arm. “Well, thank you for bringing him home. We can take it from here.” He began dragging her toward the door none too gently.

“Whoa.” She said, gripping his wrist and tearing his hand free of her arm as though he were a child. “First off, don't you ever paw at me. Not unless you wanna lose a hand, second…” She stopped when she saw Petunia standing before Harry, snarling and spitting. Harry for his part was trying desperately to explain that he had nothing to do with what happened to Dudley.

It was then that Faith noticed it. Dudley was dressed in brand new shorts, t-shirt and expensive athletic shoes. Harry, for his part was clad in second hand hand-me-downs that even the homeless would be hesitant to wear. Vernon was snapping and shouting at her, but she didn't care, she was too busy realizing the truth. “You give him all of Dudley's hand-me-downs, don't you?” Faith asked him.

Both parents stopped their tirade and stared at her blank faced. “What?” Vernon asked.

“Harry. I mean, look at what Big D here is wearing. Those shorts, that shirt and those shoes are a hundred bucks, easy. Excuse me, at least seventy five pounds.” She pointed to Harry. “I'm betting you those wouldn't get you five pounds if you tried selling them at a garage sale. When was the last time you bought that kid some new damn clothes?”

“He's served perfectly well by Dudley's old things.” Vernon said, matter of fact. “And who are you to be criticizing how we raise our boys?”

Faith slowly turned and looked at him. “Harry?” She asked. “When was the last time you had anything new?”

“Don't answer that!” Vernon snapped. He tried to speak more, but Faith slapped her hand over his mouth.

“You're done talking now.” She said to Vernon. She then turned to Harry. “Well?” She asked him.

“They've never bought me new anything. They did pay for my glasses, but it's been almost two years.” He said, sadly.

“That's a lie.” Petunia said. “Don't tell tall tales.”

“You never buy me anything.” Harry said. “You just give me all of Dudley's old things.” He was getting angry now. “Name me one thing that you've bought me.”

“We bought you a bed.” Petunia said. Vernon meanwhile was trying desperately to pry Faith's hand off of his mouth. He was turning beet red.

“You bought me a bed when I was five, Aunt Petunia!” He shouted at her. “You never spend any money on me. You never celebrate my birthday, you never take me to get ice cream with you. You barely feed me.”

“What do they make you do around here?” Faith asked. She was ignoring Vernon who was now nearly purple in the face with rage.

“Everything.” Harry snapped, viciously at the woman. “You make me do  _everything_. I cook, I clean, I do all the laundry, I'm your slave! I don't have any friends outside of Hogwarts because  _you_  won't let me have any. Any friend I have made, Dudley has beat up to keep them away from me.” He was enraged now.

“Have they ever abused you?” Faith asked. Her voice was cold and hard.

“Have they?” Harry was pacing around now, his hands flailing. “They lock me in my room when they have guests and I'm not allowed to make a sound. Dudley breaks something because he's a useless oaf and I get blamed for it, beat and sent to my room without supper.” Petunia was looking absolutely shell-shocked that Harry would have such  _cheek_ to air such dirty laundry in public.

Faith sighed and looked back at Vernon, who had stopped struggling and was just staring holes into her head. “Yeah. I figured it was something like that.” She released him. “Why do you stay here?” She asked the boy.

“Because as long as I stay here, I'm protected. Voldemort can't touch me if he…” Harry stopped. Everyone turned to look at him. “He  _can_  touch me.” He said, softly. He looked at Faith. “Voldemort can touch me.”

Petunia and Vernon both paled. “Lord…hang on,” Vernon, said, his face twisted into a mask of confusion. “I've heard that name before. Wasn't he the one that…”

Harry nodded. “Murdered my parents, yes.” His voice was suddenly very tired.

“But he's gone,” Vernon shot impatiently. “That giant bloke said so. He's gone.”

Faith glared at him, angrily. “Christ, dude.” She said. “You are one heartless motherfucker, you know that?”

“I'll not have that kind of language in my house.” Vernon said to her.

“Shut up, you tubby moron.” She snapped back at him. “Before I plant your ass like corn.”

“He's back,” said Harry, ignoring the pair's exchange. To him it felt very peculiar standing in the Dursley house, speaking calmly and collectively about Lord Voldemort. The arrival of the Dementors in Little Whinging drastically crashed the great impenetrable wall that separated the ignorant muggle world and that of the Wizarding public. The cat was most definitely out of the bag. At least as far as this house went.

“B-b-back?” Aunt Petunia asked, her voice a cracking whisper. It looked as though the woman would keel over at any moment.

Harry nodded. “Yes. He came back a month ago. I saw him.”

Faith stepped closer to her and helped her into the chair. In her fright, she'd gripped the girl's hand like a lifeline. She was fairly certain the woman wasn't aware of it.

“Hang on,” said Vernon, looking from his wife to Harry and back again. He was obviously dazed and confused by the seemingly innocent, yet appallingly serious conversation they were all having. “Hang on.” He repeated. “This Lord Voldything's back, you say?”

“Yes.” Harry confirmed.

“The one who murdered your parents.” The man clarified.

Harry nodded. “Yes.”

“And he attacked Dudley?” Vernon asked.

“No. He sent Dementors after us.” Harry said.

“That's what you guys call 'em?” Faith asked. “I just thought they were ghosts.” She shrugged. “Learn something new every day.”

“What's a…Dementoid?” Vernon asked.

“They guard the Wizard prison Azkaban.” Petunia offered.

Everyone turned to regard her. A stone cold silence filled the room. “Why's everyone looking at her like that?” Faith asked. “It's not like it's a secret or anything.” Now everyone was looking at her. “Seriously?” She was somewhat shocked. “This castle of stone, The mountain king roams all alone in here, but he's not the only one. Lost inside, forever hidden from the sun.” She looked at them and gave everyone a ' _really_?' look. “Have…none of you people heard the cover Savatage did of Edvard Grieg's In the Hall of the Mountain King? Madness Reigns in the Hall of the Mountain King?” For several seconds they looked at her like she'd grown another head. “John Oliva said outright that he based the song's lyrics on a place his dad told him about where evil sorcerers went to die.” She paused a moment. “Christ, people get some damn culture.” She shook her head. “Jesus.”

Vernon and Petunia both looked from her and back to Harry. “So this Voldy-chap is sending dismembers after you?”

“Voldemort.” Harry sighed. “And yes, it looks like he is.”

“Okay.” Faith said. “I'm not gonna pretend to know who that is.”

“You're American, aren't you?” Harry asked.

“That explains a lot.” Vernon snapped.

“Funny.” Faith said as she stepped over to Harry. “So if you stayed here, then this Moldy-butt fellow couldn't touch you?”

“That was what the protection spell was supposed to do. He wouldn't have been able to reach me, to touch me. But he can, don't you see?” Harry said. “He did a spell. He was able to touch me after that.” He looked around the house. “I don't need to live here.”

“Well, that settles it.” Vernon said, his voice calm. He drew in large breath and growled at Harry. “You can get out of this house, boy! OUT! OUT! I should've done it years ago! Owls treating the place like a rest home, puddings exploding, half the lounge destroyed, Dudley's tail, Marge bobbing around on the ceiling, and that flying Ford Anglia…OUT! OUT! You've had it! You're history! You're not staying here if some loony's after you, you're not endangering my wife and son, you're not bringing trouble down on us, if you're going the same way as your useless parents, I've had it! OUT!”

Harry wasn't sure how to feel about what Vernon was bellowing on about. He had no reason now to stay. But at the same time…where would he go? It would take him several days to get in contact with Ron and see about coming to his house. And given that everyone who'd contacted him told him not to leave the house, he wasn't sure how to feel. He couldn't stay here, that was obvious. For all of the Dursley's abuse of him, Vernon was right. As long as he was here, they were in danger. The spell that protected him was useless now. He wasn't sure how far that spell went to protect them. If he could be harmed, maybe they could also. The Dursley home was no longer safe for him. And if he had Dementors coming after him, then they were in great danger. He could ward them off if he had to. They would be helpless.

“You're right.” Harry said. “If I stay here, you all could get hurt.” He gave them all an apologetic expression. “I know I was never the boy you wished me to be.” He sighed. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all of this.”

“As well you should be.” Vernon snapped. “You've been nothing but a bother. You're ungrateful and don't have even the common decency to warn us that some, some  _freak_  is after you.” The man was understandably angry. “We should have just closed the door and left you in the cold.”

Faith sighed and shook her head. “I just know I'm gonna live to regret this.” She then looked Harry in the eye. “I got a place. It ain't much, but it's well…” She looked around at the gathered family. “It ain't here.”

“Then it's a paradise by comparison.” Harry said, happily. The last statement Vernon had made was too much. To know that Harry, as an orphan sparked no sense of compassion from the man was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. “Far be it for me inconvenience you further.”

Before anyone could say or do anything else, an enormous owl swooped in through the

kitchen window. It soared across the kitchen, dropped the large envelope at Harry's feet, and banked sharply and zoomed outside again and off across the garden.

Harry eagerly ripped open the envelope and pulled out the letter. Faith stepped around to read it beside him. Harry read it aloud to the pair of them. “Dear Mr. Potter, We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle. The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand. As you have already received an official warning for a previous offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on August 12th. Hoping you are well,

Yours sincerely, Mafalda Hopkirk, Improper Use of Magic Office, Ministry of Magic.”

Faith could see the look of utter devastation in his face. “What's all that mean?”

“Just what it says.” Harry said, sadly. “I've been thrown out of Hogwarts.” He looked at Faith. “They're going to come and destroy my wand. Everything I've been through, I'm going to need it.”

She shook her head. “Then they're not gonna destroy it.” She said, simply. “Come on. Grab a few changes of clothes and shit. We're outta here.”

Harry turned to run up the stairs. A loud  _crack_  rent the air. Dudley looked at the window, his face still pale and shaking. Petunia screamed, now clutching her husband.

A large brown barn owl sat on the sill, shaking it's head as if it had just collided with the window. Faith opened it and the owl immediately stuck its leg out. She could see a parchment rolled up around the animal's foot. She removed it and unrolled it. “Harry, Dumbledore's just arrived at the Ministry, and he's trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND. Arthur Weasley.” She looked at him. “He seemed pretty adamant about not leaving here.” She could see that he was terrified. She didn't know the first damn thing about what was going on, but she couldn't leave him alone. Not now, and not like this. Looking at him, she was reminded way too much of how she felt when she first got to Sunnydale and realized Kakistos had followed her. “Go get a bag packed.” Faith said, moving toward him. “We're gonna go to my place and hold up. I promise I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, okay?”

“But if Arthur Weasley says to…”

“Whoever he is, he ain't here. But you got those Ministry goons coming. Which means you need to be someplace else. I've dealt with magic users before. They ain't gettin' to you unless they get through me first.”

He sighed and nodded, moving up the stairs. She turned and stared at Petunia with her arms crossed. Vernon continued to stare at her. “I suppose you think I'm a monster for wanting him out of my house.”

Faith shook her head. “Actually, that part I get.” She moved closer to him. “I'm just wondering who the asshole was that left him with you in the first place.”

“Dumbledore.” Petunia said, softly.

“Petunia.” Vernon growled.

“Shut up. I wanna hear this.” Faith said to him. She looked back at Petunia. “Go on.”

“When Harry's parents were killed, I was the only living blood relative he had. In order for the magic that my sister tried to be fully realized, Harry had to be able to call home a place where his blood dwelled.” She looked up at Faith. The girl could see the incredible conflict in her eyes. “I just…I was so incredibly envious of Lily, you see.”

Vernon held his wife as she broke down in tears. “Can't you see you're upsetting her?”

“Vernon?” Faith said, moving closer to him. “I want you understand something. Three months ago? I'd have done a lot worse than  _upset_  you people. I'd have spread your asses all over this god damn house.” She shook her head. “But I'm not that girl anymore. But get this through that fuckin' watermelon on top of your neck. Right here, right now? You're seriously making me long for old habits.”

Without warning, another owl swooped down the flue, dropped an envelope onto Petunia's head and flitted back up the chimney.

“If you keep pissing me off, I'm gonna relapse and make sure you all die screaming, staring at pieces of yourselves.” She glared at him. “You get me, round boy?” Both Vernon and Petunia could see the barely controlled mayhem and promise of pain in her eyes. Vernon maintained his defiant glare, but he shut his mouth. People like this made her sick. Harry was obviously underfed, overworked and was treated like shit. Both she and Harry knew that they had nothing to do with what happened to Dudley, but the boy's parents simply didn't buy that. They were so wrapped up in their son that they blamed Harry for the boy's condition out of spite. She really wanted to do nothing more than beat the three of them within an inch of their worthless lives. Honestly, she didn't really understand why she wasn't. It wasn't like anyone would blame her. More than likely, no one would care. But here she was, just glaring at them.

Harry came thundering down the stairs, a huge trunk behind him and a cage with a white owl in it. “I'm ready.”

“An owl?” Faith asked, looking at it. “That thing best not keep me up.”

“This is Hedwig. And she's very well behaved.” Harry said, proudly. “Aren't you, Hedwig?” The owl gave a hoot and ruffled it's feathers a touch, before settling back down. He looked at the letter Petunia clutched in her hands. “You might as well open it. That's a howler. I'm going to hear it anyway.”

As if on cue, the letter burst into flames and formed a bizarre face, staring directly at Petunia. “Remember my last, Petunia!” The letter bellowed in a deep sinister voice. With that, it crumbled to ash and fell to the floor.

For long moments, no one said a word. “Come on.” Faith said. “We're out of here.”

“And good riddance to you.” Vernon said, angrily. “Been nothin' but trouble since you were dropped at our doorstep.”

“No.” Petunia said, her voice soft. “You can't leave, Harry.”

Harry stared at her in confusion. Faith snorted derisively and headed for the door.

“Wh-what?” Vernon asked, just as confused as Harry.

Petunia didn't look at Harry. “He stays.” She got to her feet and smoothed her house dress.

“He…but Petunia…” Vernon said, turning toward his wife.

“If we throw him out, the neighbors will talk.” She was regaining that same bitter tone rather quickly. She was still pale as fresh snow, but her voice was all business. “They'll ask awkward questions, they'll want to know where he's gone. We'll have to keep him.”

“But Petunia, dear…” Vernon was quickly running out of bluster.

Faith watched the conflict on Harry's face…and didn't have a damn clue where it was coming from. They were saying he could stay, not because they actually gave a shit, but because they were worried about what their neighbors would think. It smacked of serious bullshit to her.

Petunia turned to Harry. “You're to stay in your room,” she said. “You're not to leave the house. Now get to bed.” To her, that was the end of it.

“Who was that Howler from?” Harry asked, curiously.

“Don't ask questions.” Petunia said, sharply.

“Are you in touch with wizards?” He asked, again.

Petunia's face and voice grew more angered. “I told you to get to bed!”

Harry was insistent. “What did it mean? Remember the last what?”

His Aunt was shouting now. “Go to bed!”

“How come…?” Harry tried again.

“YOU HEARD YOUR AUNT, NOW GET TO BED!” Vernon roared, spraying spittle all over the place. It was the last thing he did before Faith's fist crashed into the side of his face, sending him spiraling to the carpet, unconscious. Petunia shrieked and ran to her husband. Dudley rose shakily to his feet and tried desperately to lunge at Faith.

She had to give him credit. If he were in his right mind and in fit form, he could have thrown a decent punch. But as messed up as he was, his balance and strength was shot. She stiff-armed him in the chest, sending him right back to the sofa where he was seated before. “Stay!” She said, pointing to him. He sat there, shivering. She patted his head. “Good doggie.” She hoisted the massive trunk with ease, moving out of the house. “Christ, I hate these people.” She said as she went. “Come on, Harry. We're gone.”

Harry had made certain that he'd taken everything that was important to him and left the Dursley home with no intention of going back. They'd made it no more than a block when another owl screeched in the night, dropping another letter in front of him. He knelt and picked it up. He set Hedwig down and tore into it. “Dear Mr. Potter, Further to our letter of approximately twenty-two minutes ago, the Ministry of Magic has revised its decision to destroy your wand forthwith. You may retain your wand until your disciplinary hearing on 12th August, at which time an official decision will be taken. Following discussions with the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Ministry has agreed that the question of your expulsion will also be decided at that time. You should therefore consider yourself suspended from school pending further inquiries. With best wishes, Yours sincerely Mafalda Hopkirk, Improper Use of Magic Office, Ministry of Magic.”

Faith shrugged. “Well, that's better isn't it? At least it's up for debate.”

He sighed and stuffed the letter in to his pocket. “I guess so.” He said, lifting his owl back up. “I'll just have to wait until the 12th before I know what's going to happen.”

Faith led him to her flat. “It's not much, but it's home.” She said, pushing the door open.

Harry looked about and smiled. “I like it.” He looked to the right and saw her large, comfortable bed. The kitchen was small, but well appointed. Her sofa was nice and looked incredibly plush. She had a large television and a small DVD player hooked up to it. A small stack of DVD's sat on the simple entertainment stand.

“You get the couch, loverboy.” She said, taking his trunk over and setting it next to the window. “What all you got in here, anyway?” She asked him.

“Mostly my school supplies for Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts?” Faith furrowed her brow. “I've heard that name somewhere before.”

“It's the most prestigious school of magic in the whole of Europe.” Harry offered proudly. “I've completed four years thus far.”

She nodded. “Rock on.” She said, smiling. “I got my GED in high school.” She moved to the small closet and pulled out a pair of shorts and a tank top. “I'm gonna grab a shower. You can help yourself to whatever's in the kitchen, but you drink my last coke and we're gonna have words.” She went into the bathroom and closed the door.

Harry looked around and sat on the sofa. It was actually very, very comfortable. He lifted Hedwig and stared at her. “This has been a right bizarre day, hasn't it?” He stuck his finger in and caressed the spot between the owl's eyes. She leaned her head forward and let out a chittering coo. He smiled and set her down beside the sofa. He wasn't sure how long he sat there dozing before he heard the bathroom door open. He turned…and was stunned.

Faith stepped out, carrying her clothes in her arms. In the short shorts that she was wearing, he got a very good look at her long pale legs and her tight toned butt. He didn't realize he was staring as intently as he was until he heard her clear her throat. “You keep looking at me like that, you're gonna start giving me ideas.”

“Sorry, I've just never been in the room with a girl dressed so… _scantily_.” He said, turning his attention away from her. “I didn't mean to stare.”

“You gay?” Faith asked. As he looked at her and shook his head, she chuckled. “Then yes, you meant to stare. That's what boys do. You stare, you want and if you're really,  _really_  lucky, you get.” She moved to the fridge and pulled out a soda. “You want one?” She asked him.

He shrugged and nodded. “I don't drink much soda.”

Faith pulled another and moved over to the couch, sitting on the end opposite him. “I get the feeling you don't do much.” She popped the top on her can and sipped it. “So what's the deal with you and that family? What was all that mumbo jumbo about this Voltaire-mung guy being able to touch you?”

Harry sighed and looked at her. “You don't have an early engagement, do you? It's going to take some time to explain.”

“I'm a night owl anyway.” Faith said, settling in. “And I like knowing who I bring home.”

Harry took a drink of his soda and began telling her of what he'd gone through. First about being left with the Dursleys and how they mistreated him. He was shocked at how angry Faith seemed to be getting about it. He continued on detailing his years at Hogwarts. She was an incredible listener and shared that she knew a little about the wizarding world. Not so much about the world itself, but a lot of the aspects of it, she was familiar with. He finished off with witnessing the death of Cedric and the spell he watched Voldemort use that allowed the dark lord to physically touch him.

Faith was quiet for quite a while. She stared at him for almost a minute straight. She saw his eyes. They were the same kind of eyes that looked at her when she stared in the mirror. Filled with fear, pain, anger, regret and everything that made one's soul heavy and hard to bear. Yet, like her, bear it he did. “Sounds like you've been through hell.”

“You could say that.” Harry said, softly. “But no one seems to care.”

“Believe it or not, I know how you feel.” Faith said.

“How?” He asked. He didn't wanna sound curt, but he was pretty sure he failed. If Faith caught his shortness of tone, she showed no sign of it.

“Because I know what's it's like to be different.” She said. She wasn't sure why, but for some reason, she found herself opening up to him. She just…wanted to talk to him. To tell him everything. About her, what she'd done, what she'd been through.

It was nearly two in the morning when they finished talking. Harry knew more about Faith that anyone alive. And Faith knew quite a bit about not only Harry, but the wizarding world as a whole.

Faith looked at her clock and rose to her feet. “I've gotta get some sleep. I've got work in the morning.”

Harry stared at her a moment. “No.” He said, shaking his head. “You don't.”

“Um…” Faith furrowed her brow. “Someone's gotta pay the bills here, kid.”

“I will.” Harry said to her.

She laughed at him and immediately stopped, pressing her hand to her mouth. “I'm sorry. That just came out.”

“Tell you what?” Harry said. “Call in sick for work tomorrow. I'll show you something that'll blow your mind.”

Faith stared at him a moment. “What are you, like, a secret trust fund baby?”

Harry grinned at her. “You might say that.”

She bit her lip, looked at the queen sized bed, and back to him. She then offered him her hand. “Bed's big enough for two.” She said, softly.

Harry gulped and took her hand letting her help him to his feet. He stripped down to his boxers. Faith had to admit, though he was a bit on the skinny side, the kid was cut. His abs were washboard and his limbs were lean and corded. She fought the urge to jump him. Probably because he was only fifteen. Not that that would have stopped her. But they simply climbed into bed, getting one “Hoo!” From Hedwig before Faith turned the bedside lamp out.

It was the first night in a very, very long time that Faith slept soundly. Her thoughts drifted to the young man beside her. He wasn't a boy, not to her. He'd been through too much, seen too much to ever be a child again. His innocence was plain out and out gone. Just like hers was. She was suddenly very protective of what was hers. She growled in her sleep. “Mine.” She said, absently. In her dream, he pulled her tighter. Her arm was thrown over Harry's narrow chest and her leg draped over his.

For his part, Harry had his arm wrapped about her shoulders and his finger absently twirling her thick chocolate brown hair. As sleep claimed him, his dreams were filled, not with that night in the graveyard, but of the beautiful girl that lay next to him. Somehow, deep inside, they had found a connection. In a very, very short time, they found peace in one another.

Both had smiles on their faces as they slept.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the first several chapters of this story, you're no doubt going to notice that Faith's presence isn't going to necessarily alter events all that much. Some of the timeline might be a bit different, but beyond that, nothing major. This is because Faith is doing her level best to be respectful and polite, more for Harry's sake than her own. But she will speak her mind and will get feedback for it. I do draw heavily from the book because I wanted to keep the spirit of what Rowling did alive and well. This isn't a COMPLETE RETELLING, so much as it is a subtle re-imagining. It's more of the question what if Faith, having been able to take time and work through a lot of her personal problems, ended up in Harry Potter's world. This story is my take on that.  
> So without further ado...Chapter 2.  
> Sorry. That was bad and I feel bad.

Faith awoke to the smell of cooking bacon, hashbrowns and coffee. She blinked several times at the light shining through the open window. “Fuck.” She said, burying her head underneath a pillow. She lifted her head and looked at the clock. It was past ten in the morning. “Christ!” She said, franticly jumping out of bed. “My alarm was supposed to go off at six.” She said, turning to look at Harry.

He stood, in a pair of ratty jeans and a t-shirt in bare feet in front of the stove. “It did. I turned it off.”

“I had to be to work by eight.” She said, gathering her pants and shirt. She raced around her apartment.

“Oh, they called. I answered your phone.” He said. “I hope you don't mind. I told them that I was your cousin and you had a family emergency in Bristol. You'll be gone for a few days, week at the most. Your Aunt is very ill and is in Hospital.”

Faith flopped down on the edge of the bed, holding her jeans in her hands. “Oh.” She said, relaxing a bit. “Thanks. Next time, run that shit past me, okay?”

“You were sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to wake you.” Harry offered. “Are you hungry?” He asked her.

“Always.” She said, pulling her shorts off and tugging her pants up. Harry had his back to her and didn't see her as she stripped down and dressed proper. “That smells good. But I am left to wonder where you got bacon and hashbrowns. I only had left over pizza from yesterday and a twelve pack of coke in there.”

“I took the liberty of going to the corner store this morning. They have a rather goodly selection for reasonable prices, truth to tell.” Harry said, finishing up. “How do you like your eggs?”

Faith shrugged as she pulled her socks and boots on. “Not picky.”

“Over medium okay?” He asked, cracking two eggs into the skillet.

“That works.” She said, standing and stretching. “I slept good last night.”

“So did I.” He said, sheepishly. “Your bed is quite comfortable.”

“Yeah, I bet. Hearing what they made you sleep on. You'd probably have slept better on a sack full of dead rats.”

“If not for the fact that my bed didn't have that nature fresh dead rodent smell, I might be inclined to believe that  _was_  what I was sleeping on.” Harry returned. He pulled her eggs from the pan, set them on the plate and quickly fried up two more. When all was ready he set it down on the coffee table with a cup of hot black java.

Faith took a seat and looked the meal over. She wasn't sure how he knew she was a big eater, but he knew. A huge mound of bacon sat alongside a hefty portion of potatoes and four eggs. “Thanks.” She said, happily.

“My pleasure. Least I can do for what you've done for me.” He said. He turned and looked at her as she stared at him. “You're not used to getting gratitude for what you do for people, are you?”

She shook her head. “Not really, no.” Faith said. “I just…I never think about it.”

“Well thank you all the same.” He said to her. “When you're finished eating, we're going into London. There's something I have to show you.”

“What is it?” She asked.

“You'll see.” He said, smiling.

“Not a huge fan of surprises.” She said to him. “Or of London for that matter.”

He looked at her again as he cooked himself some breakfast. “The Watcher's Council?” He asked her. As she nodded, he gave her a reassuring smile. “I don't think you'll have to worry about them. There's over eight million people in the greater London area. I doubt they'll notice you in that seething cauldron of faces.”

Faith wasn't sure why, but that made her feel better. “I suppose.”

The pair ate breakfast and Harry dressed in the best clothing he had. Which meant that they didn't have holes in them. Just.

They made their way through Surrey and boarded the train heading for London proper. It was a rather short trip. As they climbed off the train, Faith couldn't help being nervous. She knew the Watcher's Council was still looking for her. Everyone was looking for her. And now, here she was in the heart of London, right under the Council's noses.

Harry put his arm in hers. “Don't look so nervous.” He said, smiling. “There's nothing to worry about.”

“That's easy for you to say. You don't have a…” She stopped and looked at him. It was just another thing the pair had in common. Like her, he had people hunting for him. The park yesterday proved that in grand fashion. “Nevermind.”

“What were you going to say?” He asked as they made for a bus.

“Something incredibly stupid.” Faith said, chuckling. “Don't worry about it.” After nearly an hour on the buses, they came to a stop and disembarked. “Now this looks like my kind of place.” She said, nodding. “The food any good?”

Harry turned to regard her with a look of surprise. “You can see this place?”

“Um…yeah.” She said, furrowing her brow. “Why wouldn't I be able to? It's a big ass freakin' bar.”

“Because there's a spell on it that's supposed to not allow muggles to see it.” Harry returned.

“One of those letters you got mentioned that word. What the hell is a muggle?”

“Muggles are anyone that isn't a wizard or witch. Most of these people…” He said, motioning around. “They look at The Leaky Cauldron and only see a dilapidated store front long abandoned. They don't see it as worth their notice.”

Faith nodded. “That's pretty slick, actually. So…most people won't know to look at it and those that do won't have any reason to go in.”

“In a nutshell.” He said. “The whole Wizarding world is like that. All smoke and vapor. Hiding constantly behind glamours and illusions.”

“I suppose I can understand that. But if only wizards and witches can see this shit, then why can I?”

“Probably something to do with you being a slayer. Whatever it is that gives you all those powers must be supernatural in some way. Maybe that's enough.” Harry said, with a shrug. “I only learned about the wizard world four years ago. Still a lot about it I don't know.”

“You got more experience with it than I do.” Faith said. “I've got a little over a year and change. I'm hungry. Let's go in here and grab something to eat.”

Harry nodded and stepped in, smiling. “Hey Tom.” The bar was nearly empty.

“Harry!” The man bellowed, happily. “Good to see you again. Found yourself a girlfriend, did you?” He stepped from around the bar.

“She's…” Harry began.

Faith cut him off. “I'm Faith.” She offered Tom her hand.

He took and kissed the back of it gently. “It is truly a pleasure to meet you, Faith. Harry's a good lad. Won't find any better.” He gave the boy a wink, causing him to blush.

Faith turned and giggled as she saw his embarrassment. “Yeah, he's kinda growin' on me.” She looked back to Tom. “I'm diggin' on your joint.” She said, eyeing the pub. “Not old enough to drink, but you think Harry and I could get some grub?”

Tom nodded. “Of course.” He said. “So what brings you by?”

“I'm gonna show Faith Diagon Alley. She's new to London and hasn't ever been.”

“Oh, then you're in for a treat. Quite the spectacle, that is.” Tom said, setting a plate down with a pair of roast beef sandwiches with hearty steak chips.

Faith smiled and tore into the sandwich. It was extremely delicious. She saw the large tankard that Tom set down and looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “What's this?”

“It's Butterbeer.” Harry said, taking a large pull off of his own mug. “It's really good.”

Faith lifted it and sniffed it. It smelled remarkably like Cream Soda. She took a sip and found it had a distinct butterscotch flavor, but was rather tasty. She shrugged and took a big pull off of it. She swigged it down and let out a rumbling belch. “'Scuse me.”

Harry and Tom both chuckled. “I take it as a compliment, Faith.” Tom said, moving back to what he was doing.

The pair finished eating. Faith reached into her pocket to pull out the cash to pay, but Tom waved her hand away. “Any friend of Harry Potter's is a friend of mine. Your money's no good here.” He offered happily.

Faith looked at him and to Harry, who just smiled at her. “Uh, thanks.” She said, putting her wallet away. “Appreciate it.”

“Just tell people about us.” Tom said. “And we'll call it square.”

“Servin' food like that, you can bet on it.” Faith said, heading for the door.

“Faith?” Harry said, pointing to the back of the tavern. “This way.” She gave him a confused look, but followed him. Harry moved through the pub and emerged in a rarely used courtyard with a trash can against the wall. She watched as Harry knocked on the brick wall in a specific spot. She stepped back in shock as the bricks in the wall began to slide and move, sorting themselves into a large open doorway.

She looked on and saw a bustling thoroughfare with people dressed as if they were refugees from the world's largest Renaissance Fair. “Holy shit.” She said, stunned. “This place is crazy.”

“This is Diagon Alley.” Harry said, proudly. “Everything a wizard or witch could ever want can be found here.”

“Holy moly.” Faith said, moving toward a particular shop. “They have an Excalibur.”

Harry watched her giddiness and followed along behind her as she raced to the huge front window. “They sell magic and goblin-forged weapons.”

“Oh, sweet.” She said, looking at the display. The pointed to a large knife on a bed of red felt next to an intricately carved wooden box. “A 1910 Ivory handle Bowie knife.” She turned to him. “Those go at auction for about six thousand bucks.”

Harry smiled and took her arm. “Come on. We've got to make a stop first. Then we can shop.”

Faith kept her eyes on the weapon shop as he pulled her away. She finally fell in step beside him. “Where are we going, anyway?”

He pointed to a massive white marble building. “There.” He said. “Gringott's Wizard Bank.” Faith couldn't help but laugh. “What's so funny?”

“Everywhere, the world over, a bank is a bank is a bank.” She said to him. “The corporate headquarters for any bank in the states looks just like this. Big, imposing and plush as hell.”

Harry nodded. “I've found myself noticing little similarities here and there as well.” He led her up the stairs and through the massive doors. “But I can assure you,  _this_  is where the similarities end.”

Faith was flabbergasted. The lobby was tremendous. All along the walls, behind massive raised desks, sat stout, long eared, white haired creatures that she'd only seen in books and on television. “Goblins?” She asked, looking at the purveyors of the coin.

“That's right. Goblins are natural born recordkeepers and their smithing skills are said to be second to none.” Harry said. “But they're also rather… _curt_.”

“They're dicks?” Faith asked.

“I was looking for a less derogatory term than that, but yes, you could say that. It's not so much that they're mean, they're just no nonsense. They're here to work, not socialize.”

“Fair enough.” Faith said, following his lead.

Harry stepped up to the desk and pulled what looked like an old iron key from around his neck and handed it to the Goblin behind the desk before the little man could say anything. He got a nod from the teller. Faith was fascinated by the whole scenario. She knew that there was a whole other world beyond the normal every day, but she didn't believe for a second that it was this complete. Supernatural  _banks_? If anything it just proved one thing. Even paranormal creatures and people were greedy.

Money made the world go 'round.  _Every_  world it seemed.

She loved the ride along the tracks in the fancy mining cart and marveled at the fact that they had dragons –  _dragons_  – nesting in the tunnels. They stopped a large door that looked as if the apocalypse would simply another day at the office for all the damage it would do to the barricade before them. Harry handed the Goblin guide his key and waited as the little man went through the procedure of opening the door. Faith was shocked to see that the key didn't touch the door at all.

All sense of curiosity was abandoned when she saw what the vault contained. Wall to wall, and floor to ceiling…was  _gold_. Pure, gold. Some silver and bronze coins were mixed in, but largely it was piles, chests and bags filled with gold coins. The room was nearly the size of a concert hall, and it was filled to almost bursting. “Holy flying Christ.” Faith said, moving forward.

“My parents were very, very wealthy. They left this all to me.” Harry said. “Grab that chest, there would you?”

Faith saw what looked like a steamer trunk. She moved over and lifted it, noticing that it was incredibly heavy, even to her. “God damn.” She said, heaving it onto her shoulder. “This bitch is heavy. And  _I'm_ saying that.”

“Put it in the cart.” The Goblin said, pointing.

Faith did as he suggested and hoisted the chest up and into the cart. Harry closed his vault and made certain it was secured. He then climbed back in with Faith and the vault keeper. The ride back to the main bank was just as breathtaking to Faith as the trip out.

When everything was said and done, Faith and Harry had over a million British pounds to their name. And a few hundred galleons to spend on their time in Diagon Alley.

True to his word, Harry took Faith shopping. And wasn't the least bit surprised when she made straight for the weapon shop. “It's funny,” she said as they browsed the wares within. “There's an Excalibur at nearly every mall I've ever been to back in the states.”

Harry smiled at her excitement. “I'm betting they don't sell weapons quite like this, there.” He said to her.

She lifted the Bowie and spun it in her hand expertly. “Not at all.” She nodded and looked at the boy. “I'll take this, if it's cool.”

He gave her a like nod and turned to the shopkeep. “This knife and a scabbard please.”

“You got one of those sheaths that's all like, inverted on your back?” She said, turning her back to him. “So I can grab it like this and pull it out?” She reached under her arm and behind her back. “Better natural motion with a knife.”

The man smiled. “We can do that for you.” He said. He came out of the back a moment later with exactly what she asked for. “This should do you. Be able to conceal it under your jacket.”

“That's what I'm thinkin'.” Faith said. She turned to Harry and pecked him in the lips. “Thanks, baby.” She said before strapping the blade on. The blade of the knife, was longer than her forearm. “Wicked.” She said as she sheathed it. She liked the feel of the heavy blade on her back.

The pair continued exploring Diagon Alley. It was a nice day and they actually enjoyed each other's company. They finally left and made for a bank to deposit the money they'd gotten from Gringott's.

Faith showed her fake ID and was able to open an account with little trouble. Harry was adamant that she put the account in her name. They stopped and did a bit of grocery shopping on the way home. “We should really look into getting a car.” Faith said as they rode the train back to Surrey.

“Why?” Harry asked. “There's no point. At least not in London and the surrounding areas. The buses and trains are cheaper and more reliable.”

Faith nodded. “That's true, but when shopping like this, it's easier to carry more in a car.”

Harry couldn't argue that. “What would you wanna get?” He asked her. “Arthur Weasley owned an old Ford Anglia. It was a rather nice old car, to be honest.”

Faith narrowed her eyes. “I do  _not_  think so.” She said, shaking her head. “Those things are gutless as hell and have next to no damn room.”

“Well, Ron's dad's was enchanted to fly, be invisible and had extra magical storage space.” Harry conceded.

“No, I'd want something practical, with plenty of room and decent mileage. Britain has a lot stricter rules on their roads than in the states.” She said. “But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

They arrived back at Faith's flat and put away the groceries. “Look.” She said as she turned to regard him. “I really don't cook that well. I can pretty much nuke things and boil water, if I'm lucky.”

Harry smiled at her as he pulled his shoes off. “That's alright. I don't mind cooking. I just hated having to cook elaborate meals for the Dursleys then having to eat crap because they didn't want me to eat the good food.”

“That's just lame.” Faith said. “If you're willing to put in the wrench time, I'd appreciate it. Breakfast this morning was awesome.”

“I'll cook for you. It's the least I can do.” He moved over to the stove and pulled down one of her skillets. He tossed the two pounds of ground beef they'd purchased in and began browning it. “Do you mind burritos?” He asked her. “I cooked them for myself a lot when the Dursleys were out.”

“That's cool.” Faith said, opening the fridge and pulling out lettuce, tomato and onions. “What did you usually eat in yours?” She asked him.

“Whatever was on hand. Usually those three, plus some shredded cheese.”

“Man after my own heart.” Faith said, putting everything on the counter. “I got mean knife skills, but that's about it.” She pulled a butcher knife and began chopping the veggies.

“I'd like to ask a favor.” Harry said as he pushed the meat around in the pan.

“Sure.” Faith said.

“When it comes to my appointment with the Ministry. Would you accompany me?” He looked over at her.

Faith stopped chopping and looked at him. “It's what? A week from Thursday?”

He nodded. “I'm willing to pay all the bills of you'll allow me to stay with you at least until then.”

Faith stared at him a moment. “I don't know why, but…I like you, Harry. There's something about you that I can't put my finger on. It's really fuckin' weird and I'd be lyin' my ass off if I said it didn't freak me out a little bit. But I trust you. I can…” She shook her head, searching for the right word. She tapped her chest. “In here, I can, I don't know,  _feel_  that you're a good guy. And I feel a bit more comfortable with you around. Maybe it's that we're a couple of seriously sad sacks, but it's here,” She tapped her chest again. “And it's real. That's more than I've had in a long damn time. You can stay here as long as you want. If you gotta head to Hogwarts for a few months, I'm okay with that. I'll make due with…”

“I could buy a small cottage in Hogsmead.” Harry blurted.

“Who with the what, now?” Faith asked him. “I recognized those as words, but my mug-wump brain…”

Harry snickered. “Muggle.” He said.

“Right. My  _muggle_  brain didn't translate them into understandable phrases.”

“There's a town near Hogwarts. It's about a half hour walk from the castle. I could purchase a small cottage and while I attend school, you could stay there. It's small, quiet and hundreds of miles from London and the Watcher's Council you've been going on about. No one would bother us. And Lord Vold…” He stopped a moment. “No. Lord  _Moldy-butt_  won't be inclined to bother me that close to Hogwarts and so many powerful wizards.”

Faith listened to him and had to admit, it made sense. But… “I'm not good with small town life. I kind of like a night life.”

“You could always go and tromp through the Forbidden Forest. Plenty of nasty beasties in there for you to play with.” Harry offered. “That and you can visit with Hagrid. I think you'd like him. He's a half-giant.”

“Please tell me his mother was the giant.” Faith said. “I would  _really_  hate to think of that the other way around.”

“From what Hagrid said, yes.” Harry said as he finished cooking the meat. “It's really a beautiful place. It's in northern Scotland. They have grocery stores, restaurants and given that I'll be a fifth year, I can come to see you on specified weekends.”

Faith sighed and nodded. “I suppose that would be alright.” She said, to him. “It's just gonna suck not having you around.” She growled and slammed the knife down. “God, what the hell is happening to me?”

Harry was startled. “What's the matter?”

Faith moved away from the counter, flexing her fists. “I shouldn't be doing this.”

“Doing what?” He asked her. “What happened?”

“You!” She shouted. “You happened!”

He was taken aback by her harsh tone. “I…I don't understand.”

“No, you probably don't.” She said to him. She sat on the arm of the sofa. “I don't like people, Harry. I don't make friends very easily. I have a hard time trusting people. Everyone and I mean  _everyone_  that got close either abandoned me or was killed.” She looked at him, fear in her eyes. “And now you. Even Buffy…she was a slayer, too. She knew the score, the way we are. But even she didn't get it. She didn't  _see_  what a bad life was. Nice house, loving family, not having to worry where her next meal was coming from? As far as I was concerned, she had it all. She was living the high life, while I was stuck in a fleabag motel afraid something was gonna take my ass out in my sleep. Made for a lot of long nights. But she just, she would  _bitch_  about how her mom didn't understand her. How her Watcher ran her ragged.” She shook her head. “And the whole time I'm just thinking 'Wow. At least you got a mom and a Watcher. More than I can say'.” Harry stepped over and rested a calming hand on her shoulder. She reached up and set her own hand upon it. “I don't connect with people, Harry. I never have. I'm always doing something to screw it up.”

“I don't know what to say, Faith.” He returned, his voice small. “Do you…do you want me to go?”

She looked up at him and nodded. “Yes.” She said, softly. “And no.” She could feel tears in her eyes. He gently wiped them away. The gesture was unexpected, but welcome. “Part of me wants you to get away from me. To run as fast and far as you can. Because something awful is going to happen to you if you don't.” She sniffed and sighed. “But a bigger part of me wants you to stay and…keep me safe.” The last three words were so slight, that Harry thought he almost imagined them. “There aren't any nightmares when you're with me. I feel safe and comfortable for the first time in…” She shook her head. “Since as long as I can remember.”

“Which, which part are you going to listen to, Faith?” Harry asked her. “What do you want me to do?”

Faith could feel herself wanting to break down and cry in his arms. Her eyes quivered as she looked at him. Harry knew that look. It was the way he'd felt since he'd watched Cedric die. He threw caution to the wind and pulled Faith in, hugging her tightly to him. “I'm not leaving you.” He said, his voice iron hard. “No matter what happens, I'll never leave you.”

Faith couldn't control herself any longer. She wept into his shirt, gripping him like a lifeline. She wanted to keep him with her forever. He was her, all of her. And holding her,  _just_  holding her was proving that he cared more deeply for her than anyone she'd ever met. Realizing that, Faith expected to feel the dark, icy cold fist of fear grip her chest.

Instead she found nothing but light and warmth. The sensation that came with someone wanting to be with her for  _her_ , not what she could give them.

Harry wasn't sure how long he held her as she cried against him. He knew without a doubt that he would have stood stone still all night long if that's what it took. She finally stopped crying. She sat, with her head down, just breathing heavily. He took a chance and lifted her chin and looking into her reddened eyes. “I want you to know that I'll always be here for you, Faith.”

She nodded. “I made a promise that I won't let anything happen to you. I meant it.” She wiped her tears. “Sorry for getting all Lifetime on you.”

Harry wasn't a hundred percent sure what she was talking about, but he simply smiled and nodded. “That's what I'm here for, if you need it, Faith.”

She smiled at him and rose to her feet. It amused her that she was taller than him by a couple inches. She stared into his eyes and slowly leaned down, cupping his cheeks. She then kissed him, gently at first, then with increasing passion.

Harry felt butterflies swirl in his stomach as she pressed her tongue against his lips. He parted them, wrapping his slender, yet strong arms about her waist. He closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation. He took her lead and began to reciprocate.

Faith said nothing, but her mouth instructed him excellently. Like many things in his life, Harry was a naturally gifted kisser. She moved her hands from his cheeks, to his shoulders, entwining her arms about the back of his neck and her fingers in his thick dark hair.

Harry kept his hands on the on the small of her back…until Faith took his hand and moved it down to her bottom, placed her hand over it, and gave a squeeze, explaining what she wanted. He didn't disappoint.

Neither knew how long they held the embrace. But neither wished to be the first one to pull apart. Faith turned Harry about and broke the kiss. She slowly reached down and began unbuckling his pants.

She stopped when Harry gripped her hands. She pulled apart and looked at him, surprised. “What…?”

He shook his head, lifting her hands up and kissing them both. “You don't have to do that, Faith.” He said, his tone belying his nervousness.

“What are you talking about?” She asked him.

“I'm not staying with you, helping you, being here for you because I want that.” He gave her a soft smile. “We've only known each other for two days. Yes, we know a great deal about each other, but after everything you've been through, you deserve better than just someone looking to get into your trousers.”

She chuckled. “You said trousers.”

Harry sighed and continued on. “We can just sit and be friends for a while. I'm not sure, after the Ministry, what's going to happen to me.”

“I do.” Faith said. “Worst case scenario you leave England. We disappear somewhere and let the wizarding and regular world burn. We'll move to, I don't know, Japan or something.” Faith said.

“Do you speak Japanese?” He asked.

“Ohayoo wasabi.” Faith said, smiling.

“Hello spicy green paste?” Harry asked, a smile on his face.

“It don't matter if we speak the language or not.” Faith said. “We'll figure it out. Besides that, with your money, hire a damn translator.”

Harry chuckled. “You are bound and determined not to let anything happen to me, aren't you?” She nodded. “What if I get locked away in Azkaban?”

“I'll bust you out.” Faith said. “I made a promise. And I aim to keep it.”

“I'm glad to hear that.” He pecked her on the lips. “Dinner is ready.”

“Yeah.” Faith said. “Because a burrito is what I'm in the mood for after a kiss like that.” She said, following him to the kitchen.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Faith lay staring at Harry as he slept. For the past week, the boy had been in her life. She was very, very glad to have him near her. He was a calming influence and it was nice. She was still racked with moments of indecision. She questioned how he had managed to get so far into her heart and her mind so quickly.

Of course, neither of them had any answers. Both of them were young and by far not experts on matters of the heart by any stretch of the imagination. The only thing they both knew was that they needed each other. In Faith, Harry found the strength, the courage to face his destiny. Voldemort wanted him dead. But with Faith by his side, he didn't fear the Dark Lord at all. He almost… _welcomed_  the fight to come. And in Harry, Faith had found the calm she needed to face her dreams, her nightmares…and be free of them. With Harry by her side, she could realize the mistakes of her past and promise not to repeat them. She found that she wanted to be a better person for him.

She thought back to the Mayor. She was glad that she could remember him without feeling the anger that she used to. He was a contradiction to her now. She remembered his fatherly smile and his infectious laugh. At the time, she didn't really give a damn how evil the man was, she genuinely liked him. But at the same time, she could see that she was just a tool to him. A weapon to be used when he needed someone dealt with. She could see that going to his office that night and offering to be his right hand was a mistake. It was the greatest mistake she'd ever made. Because of him, she was a murderer. Because of him, she'd turned her back on everything she was trained to be.

She thought of Diana, her Watcher. She felt tears in her eyes as she thought of the kind, yet stern British woman. Diana was a good Watcher. She wanted Faith to be prepared for what the world was really like. When Faith was called, Diana was so very, very proud of her. It hurt Faith to think what Diana would say if she knew what she'd done. If Diana could see how far Faith had fallen, she'd be appalled. She'd be disgusted and more likely as not repulsed by what she saw.

But of the late Diana Dormer, Faith knew this. Diana would still be there for her. She'd still offer every ounce of effort she had within her to help Faith back on the path to redemption. She again looked at Harry. He was cute, she couldn't argue that. She gently brushed the hair aside on his head and looked at the scar he bore. It was jagged, almost looking like a lightning bolt. She ran a finger along it, causing him to offer a simple moan in his sleep.

She could feel the minuscule tightness in her stomach where she had a very vicious scar of her own. Months ago, she had only bitterness in her heart as she thought about it.

Now, she felt it somewhat deserved. She lay her head back down on his shoulder and sighed heavily. She was a tad frustrated, to be honest. She wanted him in the worst way. And for the past seven nights, since she first tried to make love to him, and he politely refused, playing the consummate gentleman.

It was that on her mind when she heard the lock to her apartment click. She furrowed her brow and lifted her head, looking toward the door. It slowly opened. She rolled off the bed and crouched on the far side. She skulked to the foot, looking around it to the entryway. Three figures, one short and broad with a walking stick, one tall and lanky and another that was obviously female stole into the room.

She quickly crawled across the floor, sliding behind the sofa.

The woman turned and closed the door behind them. As they moved further in, Faith was in motion. She shot from behind the couch and executed a spinning crescent kick that caught the stout fellow across the side of the head, sending him spiraling to the ground, dazed. As he was falling she was again moving. Using her momentum, she landed a hard kick to the second taller man's stomach, doubling him over. She then jumped, dropping an axe kick across the back of his head. He was slammed into the floor and didn't get back up.

She spun on the woman to see her bringing something up from her belt. Faith did get a good look at it before she backhanded it out of her hand, sending whatever it was flying across the flat. The girl was obviously surprised, but she quickly got into a side-facing pugilist stance.

It was then that Faith got a good look at her. She was standing eye level with the slayer, with a long red leather trench coat, a pale lavender blouse, black skirt and leggings and a pair of heavy black boots. She also had purple hair and a very, very non-plussed look in her eyes.

Faith narrowed her own eyes and went at the girl hard. Unlike the two men, this girl knew how to fight. She was able to keep abreast of Faith's attacks, but only just. She smacked the slayer's strikes aside at the last minute but was unable to even come close to mounting any kind of offense. Faith, for her part, was pretty impressed. She backed away, again squaring off. “You're good.” She offered with a smirk.

The woman gave a short chuckle. “Damn well better be,” She said, in a thick British accent. “You're not so bad yourself.”

Suddenly the light on the bedside table snapped on. “Faith? What's going on?” Harry asked, sliding his glasses on. He looked on to the floor and saw… “Professor Moody? Professor Lupin?” He rose to his feet and ran to their sides.

“Bloody hell,” Moody said, sitting up. He looked up at Faith, rubbing the side of his head. “Remind me never to sneak up on you again.”

Faith backed away from the group, looking at them all. “You know these people, Harry?”

He was now kneeling next to the tall lean fellow. The purple haired girl moved to his side. “That's Professor Moody. This is Remus Lupin. He's a werewolf, but he's a good man.” Harry offered.

“Hey, that's cool. I actually knew werewolf back in Sunnydale.” Faith said. “He was a guitarist in a rock band.” She moved to the sink and grabbed a glass of water. “Really good kid. We just locked him up three nights a month on the full moon.” She stepped over and splashed the man in the face.

Lupin sat bolt upright, then gripped his stomach. “Dear lord,” He said, painfully. “Quite a kick you've got.”

“Sorry about that. I though y'all were burglars or something.” Faith said. She looked to the girl. “Who are you?” She offered her hand. “Name's Faith.”

“Tonks.” The girl said, smiling. “Sorry to burst in on you like this. Teach us to be more careful next time.” She took Lupin's arm and moved to lift him from the floor. Faith grabbed his other arm, helping him to the couch.

“What are you all doing here?” Harry asked as Moody rose to his feet.

“We were looking for you,” He said as he took a spot on the sofa beside Lupin. “You were told to stay at the Dursleys. When we got there a few days ago, you were nowhere to be found. We've been looking for you ever since.”

Faith moved to the kitchen and lifted Tonks' wand out of the sink and took it over to the girl. “Here. Sorry about that.”

Tonks chuckled and took it, wiping it on her skirt. “No harm done.” She slid it back into her belt.

“Faith let me come and stay with her,” Harry said. “And you're not going to believe this, she's…”

“A vampire slayer,” Moody said. “I know all about her.” He looked to the girl. “Word has it the Watcher's Council is looking for you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And they'd better never find me.”

“Why exactly are they looking for you?” Tonks asked.

“I…made a few mistakes.” Faith said. “Things I wish I could take back, but I can't.”

Lupin rose to his feet and rested a hand on her shoulder. “We've all done things we're not proud of.”

“She can punch dementors.” Harry blurted.

“What?” Tonks asked, looking from Harry to Faith. “You went hand to hand with a Dementor?” She shook her head. “That takes brass.”

“Wasn't gonna let the damn thing kill Harry and Dudley.” Faith said.

“She's been looking out for me ever since we met.” Harry offered. “She offered to let me stay here. And she can see the Leaky Cauldron.”

Lupin and Tonks were surprised by that, but Moody simply nodded. “Stands to reason,” He said, simply. “Being a slayer, she's partially magical. Magic and the supernatural are a part of what she is.” He turned back to Harry. “Get dressed. We've gotta go.”

“Go where?” Faith asked.

Moody turned to regard her. “We appreciate you lookin' out for Harry. But now he's got to come with us. He's very important.”

“Then I'm coming with you.” Faith said, moving to the closet to grab her clothes.

“I'm afraid not.” The old grizzled wizard said.

“Why not?” Faith, Harry, and strangely Tonks asked in unison.

Moody sighed heavily. “Because Harry belongs with us.” He pointed to Faith. “You don't.”

She narrowed her eyes and began slowly walking toward him. “Let's get something straight,  _Cyclops_. Harry stays with me. Until he walks through the doors of Hogwarts for his first day of school,  _if_  he gets to go back, he's my responsibility. I made a promise that I'd watch out for him. And that's what I aim to do. If that means you have to kiss the floorboards again to make it happen, I'm perfectly fine with that.” She was in his face now. “So let's get it out of the way now. Are we gonna have to have another dance before you see things my way?”

Tonks leaned over to Lupin. “I like her.” He just gave her a somewhat disapproving look.

Moody, for his part, didn't back down. “You're not a wizard, Faith.”

“You're right, I'm not,” She said, nodding. With a quick kick, she sent his walking stick flying across the room. “And from my read in the landscape, right now? Neither are you.”

He looked into her eyes for a long time. He could see that she wasn't willing to abandon the notion of accompanying them. He held his hand out and the stick came flying back to him. “You ever rode a broom before?”

Faith raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

“You'll meet him later,” Lupin said.

Harry stepped up to her. “You can ride with me. But you might want to put some pants on first.”

Faith nodded and moved off to get dressed. She pulled on her jeans, t-shirt and her doc martens. She then made sure to secure her knife on her back.

Tonks moved over and looked at it. “Can I see that?” She asked, pointing to it.

Faith smiled and skinned it, before flipping it up into the air and catching it by the blade. She then handed it to the girl. “Harry bought it for me at Excalibur's in Diagon Alley.”

Tonks turned it this way and that. “It's really nice. Goblin forged steel. What is it, the 1920's?” She asked.

“1910.” Faith said, happily. She looked to Harry who was pulling on a pair of new blue jeans and a Def Leppard Hysteria tour shirt. They'd taken a trip into London to buy the boy some new clothes that he so desperately needed. The clothing he got from Dudley had all been donated to a homeless shelter.

“That's a right good blade,” She said, handing it back. “You've got good taste.”

“So do you.” Faith said, putting the knife back. “I absolutely  _love_  this coat,” She said, running her finger along the leather. “I'd kill for one of these.”

“You can actually get them in Diagon Alley,” Tonks said. “When everything dies down, we should go shopping,” She said with a smile.

“That'd be awesome.” Faith said, a similar smile on her lips. She grabbed her wallet and stuffed it into her pocket.

“Let's go,” Moody said. “Harry, Faith? You should pack. You're not going to be coming back here.” He said, sternly.

“What?” Faith asked. “Why?”

“Too risky. If we can find you, so can someone else.”

“Moldy-butt?” Faith asked.

Tonks burst out laughing. “Moldy-butt. I've gotta remember that.” She pulled her wand out and whipped it about. All of Harry and Faith's clothes zipped about and flew into Harry's trunk willy nilly. She moved over and looked inside. “It's not very neat,” She said, frowning. “My mum's got this knack of getting stuff to fit itself in neatly. She even gets the socks to fold themselves, but I've never mastered how she does it. It's a kind of flick…” She tried to do so and caused one of the shirts to shudder a bit, but nothing else.

“That's enough, Nymphadora!” Moody said. “We've got to move.”

The purple haired girl whirled on him. “ _Don't call me Nymphadora_!” She growled angrily.

Faith raised an eyebrow. “Nymphadora?” She asked, curiously. Tonks turned toward her. “What's wrong with that? I think it sounds kinda cool.”

“I don't.” Tonks snapped. “It's Tonks.”

“Yeah, see in the states? Nymphadora would be kind of unique and cool. Tonks? You'd get made fun of.” Faith said.

“We're not in the states,” Tonks said.

“True.” Faith said, patting her on the shoulder. She moved over and took her DVD's and her player and disconnected it, tossing them into the trunk. She then made sure to gather her MP3 player, her laptop, her cell phone and charger.

“You got everything?” Lupin asked.

“Yeah, but um…” She looked at the chest. “How are we gonna get our shit to wherever we're going?”

“Magic,” Moody said, offering no other explanation.

“Why do I get the feeling that's gonna be the answer to a lot of the questions I'm gonna be asking?” Faith asked Lupin, who was closest to him.

Harry pulled his broom from the closet last. “I'm ready.”

“You've got a  _Firebolt_?” Tonks asked him. “I'm still riding a Comet Sixty-two.”

The group moved out of the flat, waiting as Faith locked the door behind them. They trotted down and made the street.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked. “The Burrow?”

Moody shook his head. “Not the Burrow, no. Too risky. We've set up headquarters somewhere undetectable. It's taken a while…”

Tonks moved beside Faith. “Do you really think purple is my color?” She asked.

“What?” Faith asked. She then looked at the girl's hair. “I dig on it.”

“Don't you think it makes me look a bit… _peaky_?”

“Peaky?” Faith asked her. “Um…” She began, not really sure what the girl was asking.

Tonks nodded. “Yeah, it does.” She narrowed her eyes, staring up at her hair in concentration. A heartbeat later, her hair turned a bright hot pink. “There we are.”

“Holy shit.” Faith said, smiling. “That was awesome. How'd you do that?”

“I'm a Metamorphmagus,” she said, grinning. “It means I can change my appearance at will. I was born one. I got top marks in Concealment and Disguise during Auror training without any study at all, it was great.”

“What's an Auror?” Faith asked.

“Dark Wizard Hunters.” Moody snapped. “Tonks has been one for about a year now.” He looked at her. “She's quite gifted.” He offered with a touch of pride.

“Nice.” Faith said, offering her fist. She could see Tonks didn't quite know what to do with it. “Make a fist.” Tonks did as she was told. Faith took her hand and bumped their fists together. “This is called a fist-bump. It's just a way for friends to say 'that's cool' or something like that.”

Tonks grinned. “I like it,” She said, nodding.

“Everyone ready?” Moody asked, looking around. He tapped his walking stick on the ground. Three brooms appeared from nowhere and glided into his, Lupin and Tonks' hands.

Harry pulled the broom between his legs as if he was climbing onto a bicycle. “Faith? Stand behind me and hold on tight,” He said to her.

“I'm not gonna lie,” She said as she did what he asked. “A little awkward.” She grinned. “Never had something this long between my legs before.”

Both he and Tonks let out a sharp laugh.

“Now!” Moody said, shooting up into the sky on his own broom. Lupin and Tonks did the same a half a heartbeat later.

“Ready?” Harry asked. “Got a good grip?”

“As ready as I'll ever be.” Faith said nervously. She was shocked beyond words when the broom, with them on it, raced into the sky. He quickly caught up with the three of them as they sped through the night.

Faith had her eyes glued shut and her arms wrapped tightly around Harry's waist. The wind whipped her hair and clothes.

Harry turned to her. “Open your eyes, Faith,” He said, softly.

She looked at him and then peered around. They were hundreds of feet in the air. She felt like she was sitting on a comfortable bicycle seat. She was perfectly stable, despite being on a  _broom_. The city was flying by below them. She was flying. Faith was actually  _flying_. She felt a sense of wonder at that moment. Like she was a child and was handed the keys to a toy store and told to go nuts. Her heart was racing and her pulse was thundering. It was just about one of the most exhilarating things she'd ever done.

Harry for his part, was likewise enjoying it. The thrill of flying on his broom was one of the best things in life. He was always happy when he was doing it. He turned to see Faith's eyes wide with wonder. “This is my happy place,” He said to her. “You're happiest when you're slaying. This is where I'm at my happiest.”

Faith looked at him. She gave him a smile. “And you're sharing it with me,” She said, softly.

He nodded. “Welcome to my world, Faith,” He said to her. He directed his broom upward, away from the city with the rest of them. They broke through a bit of cloud cover and found themselves staring at the night sky. No city lights could penetrate the overcast.

Faith was bewildered at the wash of stars. She felt her stomach clench. “Wow,” She said, her voice filled with child-like whimsy. “It's beautiful.”

They continued to fly this way and that. Moody occasionally corrected their course, trying to avoid towns, the motorway and everything muggle. He even once called that they should double back to make sure they weren't followed. Faith peered behind them and saw nothing but air. “We weren't!” She shouted.

“How do you know?” He asked back.

“Good eyesight,” She said.

Finally, Lupin called for their descent. Harry nudged his broom toward the ground with the other three. They were all frozen to the bone by the time they landed in the small square. It looked a lot like the neighborhood that Faith had grown up in. She sighed and shook her head. “Nice to know Boston isn't the only town with a ghetto.”

Tonks stepped up beside her. “It's a front,” She said, nudging the girl. “Watch.”

Moody pulled a small silver object similar to a Zippo and used it to put out the street lights surrounding the square. “That'll take care of any Muggles looking out of the window, see? Now, come on, quick.”

He gripped Harry's arm and dragged him from the grass, across the street and onto the pavement. Faith began following and heard a heavy  _thump_  behind her. She spun to see Harry's massive trunk, loaded with both his and her belongings on the ground. Tonks and Lupin moved to grab it, but she waved them off. “I got it,” She said, hoisting it onto her shoulder with no visible effort.

“Bloody hell,” Tonks said, impressed. “This way,” She said, leading Faith along. “Isn't that heavy?”

Faith shook her head. “Not to me,” She said, simply.

Lupin looked at Faith and the pink haired girl, shaking his head. “I'd throw my back across the street if I tried lifting that on my own.”

“There are people out here.” Faith said, suddenly looking around. “In the shadows.”

“That's the rest of the advanced guard,” Moody said. “They're covering us. They've been with us since your flat. They've been Disillusioned.”

“Invisible.” Faith said, flatly.

“Not so much,” Tonks said. “More like… _camouflaged_. Like chameleons.”

“Oh! Like the Predator Alien.” She offered. It was obvious none of the rest of the group got the reference. “Wow. We really need sit down and watch some movies.” Faith said, quietly. She heard the muffled pounding of a stereo coming from an upper window in the house closest to them. She bobbed her head along with the British punk rock. She was actually a fan of a lot of British music. She crinkled her nose at the foul stench of garbage emanating from the overflowing trash cans just inside the wrought-iron gate that surrounded a small yard.

“Here,” Moody said, handing Harry a small slip of paper. “Read quickly and memorize. Faith, get over here.” He snapped. She moved up beside Harry. He held his wand close to the paper so they could read it. “Not aloud,” He added sharply.

_The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

Harry saw it and looked up at Moody. “What's the Order of the…”

Faith slapped her hand over his mouth and shook her head. “Not out here,” She said, realizing that Moody had said not to read it aloud for a reason. “Am I right?” She asked the elder wizard.

He gave her a gruff nod and the beginnings of a smirk. “Right,” He said. He pulled the piece of parchment out of Harry's hand and set fire to it with his wand tip. As the message curled into flames and floated to the ground, Harry and Faith both looked about again.

“Eleven, thirteen.” Faith counted quietly. “There is no twelve,” She said, leaning in close to Moody.

“Both of you think about what you memorized,” Lupin said to the pair.

They did as he suggested. And they were both shocked when a battered door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen. Faith watched in awe as, slowly what looked like an extra house simply…unfolded between eleven and twelve. It was a rather shabby looking dwelling, with grimy windows, dingy, dirty walls to accompany the rough looking entryway. “Holy shit.” Faith said, shaking her head. “No way Red could pull  _this_ off.” It was obvious the inhabitants of the houses on either side were none the wiser.

“Come on, hurry,” Moody said, pushing the pair of them forward toward the entrance.

Faith hoisted the trunk further up on her shoulder and followed Harry. She had to admit, the place didn't fill her with a lot of confidence. “This place has seen better days,” She said to herself. There were no mailbox or keyholes of any kind.

Lupin pulled out his wand and tapped the wood once. Suddenly several heavy metallic clicks sounded from behind the door. She could tell that there was a hell of a lot of locks keeping people out. “Get in quick, the both of you. But don't go far inside, and don't touch anything.” He whispered.

She cleared the threshold behind Harry and stopped in a very, very dark foyer. She could see they were in what felt like a derelict old building. There were other people in the house. She could hear movement, but no voices. It was as if everyone else was holding their breath, waiting for something. “We're not alone in here,” She said, to Lupin who was closest to her.

“No, we're not. Now hush.” He said, softly.

Tonks came in, carrying Hedwig in her cage. Moody stood on the stoop just outside. When the four of them were in, he pulled out the silver object and clicked it several times. The street lamps again blared to life. “Now stay still, everyone, while I give us a bit of light in here.”

Faith was feeling extremely exposed holding a massive trunk in the middle of a house she'd never been in. She could feel her heart beating faster. There was a soft hissing sound. She sniffed. “Gas,” She said, looking around. Antique gas lamps suddenly sputtered to life along the walls. In the light, she peered about and was immediately reminded of the haunted houses she'd seen on movies and TV. The carpet looked absolutely ancient, the wallpaper was dingy and peeling, the huge chandelier – once beautiful and gossamer – now hung caked with dust and cobwebs. The portraits were dingy and darkened with age and hung at odd angles on the walls. “Wow,” She said. “This isn't creepy at all. If the Bates family owns this place, I'm out of here.”

Harry chuckled, having actually gotten the reference. At the far end of the hallway, a plump woman with bright red hair, paling with age, emerged. “Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, happily. Faith saw the woman coming toward them. She had a very matronly look to her and seemed genuinely happy to see them.

“Oh, Harry, it's lovely to see you!” She whispered, pulling him into a rib-cracking hug. She then stood back and looked him up and down. “You're looking peaky; you need feeding up, but you'll have to wait a bit for dinner, I'm afraid…” She looked at Faith and cocked her head.

“Molly Weasley, this is Faith. She's a friend.” Harry said. “She helped me when the Dementors came and has been letting me stay with her since that night.”

“Hey, Mrs. Weasley.” Faith said, offering her hand. “It's nice to meet ya. Harry talks about you a lot.”

Molly took her hand but was obviously confused by her presence. She looked at Moody with a raised eyebrow.

“She insisted.” He offered by way of explanation.

“I made a promise to Harry here that I wouldn't let anything happen to him.” Faith said. “I wanted to keep my promise.”

Molly grinned and nodded. “Then welcome Faith,” She said, considering the matter closed. She then turned back to the gathered wizards. “He's just arrived. The meeting's started…”

Tonks, Lupin and Moody nodded and shuffled past the pair of them. Harry moved to follow but was stopped by Molly's hand on his chest. “No, Harry, the meeting's only for members of the Order. Ron and Hermione are upstairs, you can wait with them until the meeting's over and then we'll have dinner. And keep your voice down in the hall,” she added in an urgent whisper.

“Why?” He asked, curiously.

“I don't want to wake anything up.” Molly returned.

“Like what?” Faith asked, now nervous.

“I'll explain later, I've got to hurry, I'm supposed to be at the meeting. I'll just show you where you're sleeping.” She said, before turning and leading them through the house to the stairway. Faith and Harry both stayed close to each other as they moved along. They walked quietly past a pair of ratty, moth-eaten curtains that concealed another door, skirted a massive umbrella stand and began the ascent of a long, darkened staircase. On the wall beside them sat a row of shrunken heads on plaques.

“Christ.” Faith said, shaking her head. “Where the hell did they bring us? From everything you've told me of Moldy-butt, this is the kind of place he'd be staying in.” She whispered to Harry.

He just gave her a nervous nod. He could see that the heads all belonged to house-elves. They all appeared to be of the same family, with similar snout-like noses. He was just as shocked and appalled as Faith. He knew that her slayer senses had to have been going crazy in a place like this. If he didn't know better he would be inclined to believe the house belonged to some evil Wizard patriarch. “Mrs. Weasley, why…?”

She cut him off. “Ron and Hermione will explain everything, dear. I've really got to dash.” She whispered. “There,” She said, pointing. “You're the second door on the right. I'll call you when it's over.” She turned and rushed past them, hurrying down the stairs.

“I'm not gonna lie, Harry…” Faith said, getting closer to him. “I'm not diggin' on this place one goddamn bit.”

“Me neither,” He said, nodding his understanding. “But if Mrs. Weasley thinks it's safe, then it's safe. She wouldn't trust her family to be in a place that's anything but.”

“I trust you, Harry.” Faith said. “But only you.”

He gave her a warm smile and patted her shoulder. “Come on,” He said, moving to the door that Molly had indicated. He reached for the knob, but Faith stopped him.

“I'll go first,” She said, setting the trunk down in the hallway. He gave her a nod and stepped back. She twisted the knob and took a step inside. She caught a brief glimpse of a gloomy high-ceilinged, twin-bedded room. She heard the loud twittering noise. She spun quickly catching the figure that came rushing out of the shadows at her. She immediately turned on her heel, lifting whoever it was and tossing them to the floor on their back. Her knife was out and resting easily against the side of her assailant's neck. Everything in the room went silent.

“Get off of me!” The frightened girl snapped. Faith stared into the wild eyes of a girl Harry's age with a bushy mane of brown hair. She looked over and saw Harry coming into the room. “Harry, tell this girl to get off of me.”

“Faith, you can let her up,” He said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “That's Hermione. She's a friend from school.”

Faith put her knife away and rose, taking Hermione's hand and pulling her up. “Sorry. This place is just giving me the Wiggins.”

Hermione stared at her a moment, rubbing her back. “That hurt, you know,” She said. “And why are you carrying a knife?”

“Because you never know when something is gonna come rushing out of the darkness to tackle you to the floor.” Faith said, adopting the same embittered tone as Hermione.

For her part, Hermione had the good nature to look sheepish. “Sorry about that.” She turned to Harry and immediately flew into a rambling tirade. “How are you? Are you all right? Have you been furious with us? I bet you have, I know our letters were useless, but we couldn't tell you anything. Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't…” She was immediately cut off by Faith.

“Whoa!” She said, interrupting the girl. “What do you mean Dumbledore made you swear not to tell Harry anything?” She looked at Harry. “He's that cooky ass headmaster, right?” At everyone's nod, she furrowed her brow. “You get fuckin' attacked by Dementors, get called in for a trial by the Ministry and he's not willing to give you any information?” She looked at Hermione. “What kind of bullshit is that?” She turned to the redheaded boy that stepped forward. “You are  _obviously_ a Weasley,” She said to him. “Christ, you look like your mom.”

“Oh, that's just what I wanted to hear,” Ron said, suddenly sour.

“Hey, don't knock it. I'm betting your mom was fine as hell back in the day. Your dad obviously thinks so. You've got what like, ten brothers or some shit?”

“Five older brothers, one younger sister.” Ron said, not sure how to respond to what Faith had said.

“Damn. Your folks are gettin' busy every chance they get.” Faith offered.

“I've been doing some reading, Harry. When we heard about that Ministry hearing – It's just outrageous – I've looked it all up, they can't expel you, they just can't. There're provisions in the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life-threatening situations …”

Faith nodded, looking at Harry. “I'd say that qualifies.”

“You were there with him?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah. He took one Dementor with that… _Expendable Petroleum_  thing and I beat the other one near to death before he ran like a bitch, screaming.”

All three children laughed. “It's Expecto Petronum,” Hermione said. “It's the Patronus charm.”

“Yeah, that's what he used and I…”

“Did you say you  _beat_  a Dementor up?” Ron said. “Is that even possible?”

Hermione, for once, didn't have an answer. “I don't know. I've never heard of it being done.”

“Maybe no one ever tried.” Faith said. “When I was wailing on him, he felt like he was made of, I don't know, he felt soft. Like he wasn't completely there. He felt the pain, though. Son of a bitch was screaming his head off. All flailing his bony ass arms around and shit.” She pantomimed the Dementor's actions. Ron and Harry chuckled, but Hermione just stared at her in awe.

“How can you even see a Dementor?” She asked Faith.

“I'm a slayer.” Faith said. “I hunt vampires and monsters.” She moved out into the hallway and hoisted Harry's trunk and carried it in. “I'm Harry's bodyguard until he goes back to school.” She set the chest down at the foot of the bed.

“Have you ever fought Dark Wizards?” Ron asked.

“Couple,” She said.

“She put Moody and Lupin down earlier tonight,” Harry said, smiling. “She also fought with Tonks.”

“Girl's got skills.” Faith offered, sitting on the bed.

Harry carried Hedwig over and set her on the nightstand, letting her out. She hopped up onto his shoulder and nibbled his ear before settling in. He sat down beside Faith and quietly stroked Hedwig's nose. “I would have liked answers,” He said.

“We wanted to give them to you, mate.” Ron offered. “Hermione was going spare, she kept saying you'd do something stupid if you were stuck all on your own without news, but Dumbledore made us…”

“Swear not to tell me,” Harry said, sadly.

“I'd like to know why.” Faith said. She reached around Harry and held him close. “We'll find out,” She said to him. He gave her a weak smile. The happiness that swelled inside him at seeing his friends again was quickly washed away. He just stared at her in silence.

“He seemed to think it was best.” Hermione offered. “Dumbledore, I mean.”

“Right,” said Harry.

“I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles…” Ron began.

Harry moved to talk, but Faith was the one that spoke. “Really?” She snapped. “Dumbledore thought he would be  _safer_  with the fuckin' Dursleys?” She shook her head. “Man must have cow shit for brains. Why they put him in charge of students is completely beyond me. He was nearly killed and Dumbledore wasn't anywhere to be found. Yeah. He was real goddamn safe.”

Hermione and Ron both wanted desperately to come to the Headmaster's defense, but at the moment, they both felt that Harry and Faith had a point. “That's why he's had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time…”

That  _really_  pissed Faith off. She rose to her feet. “Are you kidding me?” She asked, her voice cold and hard. She turned to see that Harry was looking almost ill with anger. She whirled back on the pair. “He's had Harry followed?” Ron and Hermione both nodded.

“But…they decided to just stay back and let the teenage boy deal with the fucking Dementors?” She asked. “What were they doing when we were fighting 'em? Taking bets? Making fucking popcorn?”

“They didn't know about the Dementor attack,” Ron said.

“He was so angry.” Hermione offered an almost awestruck voice. “Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary.”

“Well, I'm glad he left,” Harry said coldly. Faith turned to regard him but said nothing. “If he hadn't, I wouldn't have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer.” He pointed to Faith. “As it was, she saved me and let me stay with her. I'm not going back to the Dursleys again. Ever. I don't care what the protection spell does or doesn't do.”

Hermione and Ron stared at each other. Faith moved over and sat beside Harry again. “No, you're not,” She said to him. She turned his head and kissed him firmly. “I'm not gonna let you.”

“Aren't you…aren't you worried about the Ministry of Magic hearing?” Hermione asked quietly.

Harry shook his head. He stared into Faith's brown eyes. “No,” He said, his tone soft.

Faith smiled at him and turned back to Hermione. “So why's Dumbledore so set to keep Harry in the dark? You two have been here. Did you guys ever find out?”

She saw them exchange a look. “We told Dumbledore we wanted to tell you what was going on,” Ron said, sighing. “We did, mate. But he's really busy now. We've only seen him twice since we came here and he didn't have much time. He just made us swear not to tell you important stuff when we wrote. He said the owls might be intercepted…”

Faith looked at Harry and gave him a shrug. “Kinda gotta give 'em that one.”

Harry glared at her. “He could still have kept me informed if he'd wanted to,” Harry said, shortly. “He knows ways to send messages without owls. One doesn't get to his position without knowing things like that.” Faith gave him a nod. The statement had merit.

Hermione glanced at Ron and then said, “I thought that too. But he didn't want you to know  _anything_.”

“Maybe he thinks I can't be trusted,” Harry said, sadly.

Faith furrowed her brow. “You think so?” She asked, suddenly worried.

“Don't be thick,” said Ron, looking highly disconcerted.

“Watch it, red.” Faith said, snapping her face to look at his. “I can drop you just as fast as I did her,” She said, indicating Hermione. Ron quickly paled.

“Or that I can't take care of myself…” Harry continued, oblivious to Ron and Faith's conversation.

“Of course, he doesn't think that!” Hermione shot back.

Faith let out a belt of laughter. “I think  _everyone_  knows that's bullshit.” She pulled Harry closer. “You can definitely take care of yourself. Just ask the Dementors we laid the smack down on.”

He looked at her. “So how come I had to stay at the Dursleys' while these two got to join in everything that's going on here?” He asked, his words coming in a rush. “How come these two are allowed to know everything that's going on…?”

“We're not!” Ron interrupted. “Mum won't let us near the meetings, she says we're too young…”

Before anyone knew it, Harry was shouting. “So you haven't been in the meetings!” He rose to his feet. “Big deal! You've still been here, haven't you? You've still been together! Me? I'd have been stuck at the Dursleys if not for her!” He pointed to Faith. “A complete stranger that didn't know me from Adam saved me and let me live with her! Where were my friends? Where were my supposed  _protectors_? I've handled more than you who've ever managed and Dumbledore knows it! Who saved the Philosopher's Stone? Who got rid of Tom Riddle? Who killed the Basilisk? Who saved the pair of you from Dementors?” He was enraged. He'd confided a lot in Faith over the last week. The pair had found peace in the each other. Now, however, at seeing his friends, being surrounded by those that were supposed to protect him, he couldn't stop himself. The rage, the fury of it all came flooding from his mouth. Being supposedly followed…he stopped a moment. He turned and looked at Faith. “They didn't know.”

She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“That I'd left the Dursleys and came to you.” He smiled. “They didn't know.” He chuckled. “Moody said that they arrived at the Dursleys a few nights ago and I wasn't there. They had to spend the days since trying to find me.” He looked to Ron and Hermione. “I thought you said I was being followed.” The pair had nothing to say to that. “Not doing a very good job of it, are they?” He asked.

“It doesn't inspire a great deal of confidence in these people, does it?” Faith asked.

“Not so much,” Harry said, sadly.

“We wanted to tell you, Harry, we really did.” Hermione began.

“Didn't wanna tell him that badly, did you?” Faith asked as Harry collapsed against her. “If you wanted to tell him you would have. Dumbledore is damned.”

“He swore us to secrecy,” Hermione said, on the verge of tears.

“And what would he have done if you'd have said anything?” Faith asked her. “Kill you? Gutted you and thrown you in a ditch?” She shook her head. “No. Not very likely. You'd have gotten a lecture. How terrifying.”

Hermione was nearly crying, now. “We're really sorry! You're absolutely right, Harry. I'd be furious if it was me!”

Harry looked at her. He was incredibly numb. “What is this place anyway?” He asked.

“Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix,” Ron said, quickly.

“Is anyone gonna bother telling us what the Order of the Phoenix is?” Faith asked, somewhat impatiently.

“It's a secret society,” Hermione said. “Dumbledore's in charge, he founded it. It's the people who fought against You-Know-Who last time.”

“Who's in it?” asked Harry.

“Quite a few people…” Hermione began.

“We've met about twenty of them,” Ron added. “But we think there are more…”

Harry lowered his head and felt completely dejected. He looked to Faith and shook his head. He didn't want to talk anymore.

She, however, had things she wanted to ask. “So this Order, they're gearing up to take on Voldemort, right?” She asked. As they nodded, she cocked an eyebrow. “So what they know?”

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. “What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

Faith lifted her hands up in frustration. “What's happening? What's he up to? Where is he? What are they doing to stop him?”

“We've told you, the Order don't let us in on their meetings,” Hermione said, nervousness at the anger in Faith's eyes making her voice shake. “So we don't know the details, but we've got a general idea,” She added.

“Fred and George have invented Extendable Ears, see,” said Ron.

“They're really useful,” Hermione said, rapidly.

“Extendable…” Faith began. Harry looked at Ron.

“Ears, yeah. Only we've had to stop using them lately because Mum found out and went berserk. Fred and George had to hide them all to stop Mum binning them. But we got a good bit of use out of them before Mum realized what was going on. We know some of the Order are following known Death Eaters, keeping tabs on them, you know…”

“Whoa, wait. Death Eaters?” Faith asked. “What the hell are…”

“Followers of Voldemort.” Harry offered quietly. “People loyal to him.”

Hermione and Ron nodded. “Some members are working on recruiting more people to the Order,” said Hermione.

Faith immediately thought of Giles. He'd be one hell of an addition to the group. Given his chops at being a Watcher and his rather sinister background, she was sure he would even jump at the chance. But he was half a world away and was probably gunning for her head just like everyone else.

Meanwhile, Ron kept on. “And some of them are standing guard over something. They're always talking about guard duty.”

“Couldn't have been me, could it?” Harry asked sarcastically, earning a snort from Faith.

“Oh yeah,” Ron said, sheepishly.

“What have you two been doing?” Harry asked them. “If you're not allowed in meetings?”

“We've been decontaminating this house,” Hermione explained. “It's been empty for ages and stuff 's been breeding in here.”

Faith felt something on the back of her neck and rose to her feet, looking around.

Ron and Hermione watched her but continued speaking to Harry. “We've managed to clean out the kitchen, most of the bedrooms, and I think we're doing the drawing room to…”

With two loud cracks, a pair of twin redhead boys appeared from nowhere. Faith was in motion the second they materialized. She jumped into a split front kick, each boot catching one of the boys in the face, knocking them both to the ground, unconscious. She was on her feet in a fighting stance before they hit the floor.

Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon fluttered with Hedwig onto the top of the wardrobe. “Bloody hell.” The boy said in surprise. “Those are my brothers, Fred and George.”

“You didn't hurt them did you?” Hermione asked.

“I don't know.” Faith said, relaxing her stance. “You can ask them when they wake up.” She crossed her arms and sat beside Harry.

Ron looked at the pair, as blood dripped from their noses and back to Faith. He wasn't sure why, but she scared the hell out of him. “I like you,” He said, smiling.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Faith paced the room with barely controlled rage. “This is such bullshit.” She snapped. Her fists flexed continuously, causing her knuckles to crack and pop.

“She swears a lot.” Fred offered to Harry.

“You get used to it.” Harry returned.

Over the past twenty minutes, the group conversed about what the wizarding world had been doing to Harry. The newspaper called the  _Daily Prophet_ was running articles painting Harry as a basket-case attention monger. They outright deny that Voldemort is making any kind of a return and that Dumbledore is a senile, demented old coot that's making up tales.

Faith had to admit, what she heard of the man, she actually believed that. But she knew Harry was anything but. She'd only spent a few days with him, but he was nowhere near an attention monger. He hated that he was famous. If he had his way, he would be just as unknown as anyone else. He wanted nothing to do with Voldemort or the bullshit that surrounded him. “I still say we just pack up and split. There's a huge world out there and we can disappear into it.” She said to him.

It wasn't the first time she'd brought it up. And Harry had to admit, at the moment it was looking like a good idea. “He'll just find us.” Harry said to her, again. He'd explained it to her before.

She knew he was right. Voldemort was a powerful man with a lot of followers. If they ran, he'd hunt them to the ends of the earth. “Dammit.” She said, going back to her pacing. “I just can't believe these people. I would love to go and talk…”

There was a knock on the door. She swept over and opened it. Tonks stood looking at Faith. “Come on.” She said, motioning the girl to follow. “Meeting's almost over. The group wants to talk to you.”

“Really?” Faith asked. “Okay. Got plenty that needs saying.” She said, following the witch.

Tonks, for her part, looked incredibly nervous. “Just…be careful of what you say. There are a lot of powerful wizards in this room that are not a fan of muggles.” She turned to Faith. “I know you're not exactly a muggle per se, but just…be respectful.”

Faith stared at the back of her head as they descended the stairs. “Why did they wanna talk to me?”

“I really don't know.” Tonks said. “Honest truth, Faith. I don't know. Moody brought you up and Dumbledore said he wanted to meet you.”

Faith realized that she had to keep her tongue and mouth in check for this. She needed information and this group was in the know more than anyone else. She wanted desperately to be a part of Harry's life. She cared for him incredibly deeply and wanted to fight alongside not only him but all of them. If Voldemort was really as bad as they believed him to be, she needed to be prepared. And for Harry, she needed to learn what she could. Because they seemed determined to leave him high and dry.

Tonks led her to the door at the end of the hallway that they'd entered. “Now, be respectful. Answer any questions you're asked with direct answers. Having had little contact with the muggle world, most of the people in this room won't understand a lot of your references.”

“Gotcha.” Faith said. “Don't be a bitch or a smartass.”

Tonks smiled. “Right. Ready?” She asked. At Faith's nod, she pushed the door open and led Faith inside.

She looked around as she entered. She recognized the three people she'd come with; Moody, Lupin and Tonks and the plump form of Mrs. Weasley, but beyond that, she was at a loss. There were perhaps fifteen more people in the room.

And every one of them was staring at her intently. Central to the group, she could see was a very tall wizard with long flowing white hair and a beard to match. He immediately reminded her of what Merlin looked like in the movies she'd seen. “Hello, Faith.” The man said, his voice calm and wizened. “I'm Albus Dumbledore.” He offered his hand.

Faith had to fight the urge to punch the old coot in this throat. She instead took his hand. “It's good to meet you. Harry's told me a lot about you.”

“I'm sure he has. And I'm not going to delude myself into believing that everything he is saying at the moment is of a positive nature.” He said, in understanding.

“Yeah, he's pretty pissed at you right now.” Faith admitted.

“Please…” He said, motioning to the chair in front of him. “We'd like to ask you a few questions.”

She nodded and took a seat. She was comforted by the feel of the heavy knife strapped to her back. It made her feel safe. Not that in a sea of wizards powerful enough to blow the earth out of orbit, a hundred-year-old buck knife would do any good, but it made her feel better.

“Why are you being hunted by the Watcher's Council?” A man with long greasy black hair, a sharp hook-like nose, and a flowing black cloak asked her.

Faith didn't bother asking him how he knew. Moody had known and the chances are good he informed everyone present before she ever stepped foot into the room. But her going rogue, so to speak, was more likely as not a bit of an embarrassment to the Watcher's Council. That they couldn't control one of their own slayers probably rankled. She'd explained all of this to Harry, but she was a bit hesitant to divulge it here. But she also knew she had little choice. If they wanted to know, they could get it out of her, one way or another. At least, they were giving her the chance to answer the questions first. She sighed. “I killed someone.” She said, simply. “I arrived in Sunnydale California almost two years ago…” She explained what happened when she first arrived, detailed her time with Buffy, their eventual falling out and her turning to the Mayor. She wiped the tears away as she relived it all. She desperately wished Harry was there with her. She fought past the lump in her throat and went on. The fight with Buffy in her apartment and on the rooftop. She talked about her time in a coma and her awakening. She informed them of the body swap and that whole fiasco. She ended with the fight with the Dementor and rescuing Harry from the Dursleys.

The whole time she spoke, the room was quiet. Finally, the man that asked her the question looked at Dumbledore. “I don't trust her.”

A few of the others nodded their agreement. “Need I remind you, Severus…” Dumbledore began.

The black cloaked man immediately narrowed his eyes. “No, Headmaster, you do not.” He turned back to Faith. They locked eyes. “I don't trust you.”

Faith sneered at him. “Right back at you, Darth.” She said to him.

His jaw tightened as he continued to stare at her. He was trying to intimidate her. Given everything she'd dealt with, she didn't sweat him one damn bit.

“I have a question.” A large black man said.

Dumbledore and Faith looked at him. “Yes, Kingsley?”

He stepped forward and offered his hand to Faith. “Kingsley Shacklebolt.” He said. “A pleasure to meet you, Faith.”

“Likewise. Shacklebolt. That's an awesome name.” She said with a smile. “Kinda like Nymphadora.” She said, looking at Tonks. The pink haired girl's hair went red as she frowned.

Moody was the only one in the room that offered any kind of a smirk at the mention of Tonks' first name.

“I was wondering, why did you rush to Harry's defense? And how was it you were able to combat the Dementor?”

“Well…” Faith thought about it. Truthfully, she wasn't sure  _why_  she wanted to help the pair. She just did. She said as much. “Being a slayer, I…I guess I kinda feel the need to slay. And Dementors, for all they're supposed to be, are just ghosts to me. More solid than your average spirit, but whatever. I just jumped on him and hit him until he went away.”

“But…” He looked at Dumbledore, then to the rest of the group. “How did you get past the aura?”

“Aura?” Faith asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Dementors have an aura of sadness, so to speak.” Dumbledore offered. “When one is close to them, they simply feel all happiness and contentment slip away. A feeling of despair descends over the victim. If a Dementor gets close enough, they can remove your soul in its entirety.”

Faith shrugged and looked back at Kingsley. “I couldn't tell you, Hoss. I just know when I went at the thing, I was pissed off.”

Moody nodded. “The slayer essence is based on violence and instinct. When Faith was near the Dementor, her instincts took over and she wanted it dead, by any means necessary.” He looked at the girl. “Sound right to you?”

“Makes sense.” Faith offered.

“Why did you remove Harry from the Dursley's even though he had specific instructions to stay there?” A pudgy round man with short red hair asked. Faith knew immediately that this was Arthur Weasley. “The Ministry as well as I told him to stay where he was.”

Faith closed her eyes and calmed herself. She had to physically fight the urge to scream. “Because I couldn't let him stay there.” She said, her voice wire tight. “The Dursleys were horrible people. The things they did to him, made him do, I couldn't let him stay. He told me about the protection spell that was around him. He also told me that, after Voldemort came back, he was able to physically touch Harry. That meant that there was –  _is_  – no reason for him to remain with those people. I've killed vampires and demons before. I beat that Dementor within an inch of its life. I figured between me and Harry we could stay safe.” She looked at Moody. “You even said yourself that you played hell trying to find us.” He gave her a nod. “Everyone just left him there and didn't tell him why. No one seemed to care what happened to him. I just…I had to get him out.” She finished sheepishly.

The room was quiet for a long moment. “What are your intentions?” Dumbledore asked her.

“What do you mean?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Mr. Moody stated that you insisted on accompanying young Harry to this place. I would like to know why? From what I've heard of your history, this is quite out of character for you.”

“I made a promise.” Faith said.

“Your word seemed not to matter to you back in America.” Dumbledore prodded.

Faith was starting to get pissed at him. She didn't really see how – as the man responsible for Harry's safety, and as the man that left him in a hellish home with no regard for what it was doing to the boy – he had any room to question her morality. She closed her eyes and thought about Harry. She thought about what he'd want her to say, what he'd want her to do. She then realized that pissing her off was exactly what Dumbledore was trying to do. He was testing her. “I've never met anyone like Harry before.” She said to the aged wizard. “He's been through hell. I've been through some shit, but he's just…he's strong. Stronger than me in a lot of ways. He deserves to be happy. And I think with me, he is. I know I'm a lot happier with him around me. Because of that, I wanna keep my promise. He's my chance to do something right. Maybe…” She shrugged. “Maybe with him, I got a chance of getting back on the rails, you know?”

“Do you love him?” Molly asked, simply. “It sounds like it to me.”

Faith stared at her. She was well aware that the rest of the room was watching her, but she only had eyes for the woman that had broached the question. “I don't know.” She said, honestly. “Ain't never been in love before.”

Molly just gave her a nod and let it drop.

“How far are you willing to go?” The man named Severus asked her. “What are you willing to do?”

“To protect Harry?” Faith asked for clarification. He gave a nod. She stood, reached behind her back and pulled the knife from the sheath and brought it out, slamming it down into the table. “No limit.” She said to everyone in the room. “Harry Potter is the closest thing I've found to peace in my entire life. And there is no distance I'm not willing to go and nothing I'm not willing to do to keep it. You all stand here in quaking in fear of Voldemort.” She shook her head. “I'm not afraid of him. It doesn't matter how powerful a wizard he is, how sinister a force he is and how many people he has willing to die in his name. At the end of the day, he's just a man.”

“He's immortal.” Dumbledore said, simply.

Faith looked at him. “No such animal, D. Everything, and I mean _everything_  can be killed. Don't matter what it is.” She smiled. “You can be a king or a street sweeper. But sooner or later, you gotta dance with the Reaper. When the time comes and we're standing, face to face, army to army?” She snatched the knife from the table and turned, hurling it at the wall. It buried itself into the wood. “He's just gonna be another mark in the 'slain' column.”

A somewhat bedraggled man in a long black coat and long black hair stepped over and grunted as he pulled the knife from the wall. He walked over and offered it back to her. “Please don't throw knives at my walls.” He said, giving her forgiving smile.

“Sorry. Just making a point.” Faith said, apologetically.

“Sirius Black. Harry's godfather.” He said, offering his hand. “Welcome to my home.”

“Faith. Thanks for letting me come. Harry has spoken a lot about you. He absolutely adores and looks up to you.” She said to him.

She could tell that made him happy. He made a grand sweeping gesture. “Continue.”

She nodded and turned back to the gathered group. “All of you are wizards. Powerful, skilled and experienced wizards.” She moved over to Severus. “Take out your wand.” He looked at Dumbledore, who nodded. He pulled his wand out and held it aloft. “Now set it on the table.” Faith said to him. “I'm not gonna touch it. Just set it down.” He stared at her a moment, then did as she asked. “Okay.” She looked up at him. “This is the biggest problem all of you face.” She spun and quickly took the man's legs from beneath him. Severus landed hard on his back. She then flipped him over and tugged his arms behind him. “As I said, you're all wizards and witches. None of you, are ready to deal with something like me.” She nodded to the man beneath her, who was trying frantically to get up. “Just ask him.” She rose to her feet and helped him up. “Sorry. Again, trying to make a point.” She said, handing him back his wand. He was obviously pissed. She turned away from him. “Voldemort is going to fight you as a wizard. Magic for magic. He's going to force you to fight this war his way.” She shook her head. “He's not going to expect to find something like me, someone who's willing to bury a knife in his head. I can be a hell of an asset.” She held her arms out wide. “I'm used to fighting the forces of darkness. Voldemort's a Dark Lord, right?” She grinned. “Can't wait to meet him.”

Dumbledore looked at her and around the room. Everyone met his eyes. He held their gazes. Then, finally, he turned back to Faith. “It would appear you leave us no choice.” He stepped over to her. “You have already deemed yourself willing to protect Harry with your life. I see no reason to remove you from that station.”

She looked up at him. “I promise I won't let you down, D.” Dumbledore gave her a warm fatherly smile. He then grunted as Faith punched him in the stomach, just hard enough to feel it. “That's for leaving him with the Dursleys, you ass.” She said to him.

“There were…”

She made a talking motion with her hand. “Extenuating circumstances, yadda yadda.” She said. “You should have at least checked in with them and made sure they treated him like a human being. One flashy magic trick from you and they'd have worshiped the ground the boy walked on.” A lot of the people in the room nodded.

Dumbledore straightened up and rubbed his slender stomach. “I did what I thought was best. Harry never really spoke of his ill treatment.”

Faith stared at him. She knew that there were warning signs. If the old bastard was paying any kind of attention, he would have been privy to it. “Well, understand something, big D. He ain't goin' back.” She shook her head. “I won't let him. That protection spell isn't working anymore. Voldemort was able to touch him last time they met.”

Dumbledore sighed and nodded. He, in all honesty, couldn't see any reason for the boy  _to_  return to them. The magical protection, if what Harry had said was true, had broken down and was no longer in place. And if what  _Faith_  was saying was true, if she was willing to charge the gates of hell to keep Harry safe, then he was content to let him stay with her. “Very well.” He said, simply.

“There is one more thing I wanted to know.” Faith said. “Can I talk to you in private?” She asked Dumbledore.

He nodded and led her to a small anteroom. She closed the door and stepped closer to him. “Why aren't you telling Harry anything? Kid's beside himself wanting to know the reason, and after you all failing so catastrophically at protecting him, he deserves to know.”

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. “I can't tell you.”

“Yeah you can.” Faith said. “You're just choosing not to.” She rubbed her face in her hands. “Look. Kid's been through the damn wringer. He's literally saved that school more times that he'd care to remember. On  _your_  watch, he and Dudley were nearly killed by Dementors. Doesn't that earn him a little explanation? Even you can't be so callous to just ignore him and leave him hanging. Give the kid something to go on.” She cocked her head. “You  _owe_  him that much.”

Dumbledore wasn't happy about being questioned like this. In truth, he did believe Harry deserved some sort of explanation. But he had his reasons, he really did. With what he'd discovered, he only had so much he could say. But he also knew that Faith wouldn't let it go. If she didn't learn from him, she'd question others. And if she didn't get her answers through conversation, she'd resort to other methods. And as she proved with Professor Snape, she was more than capable of being very, very persuasive. Amid broken bones and bloodied faces if need be. “You have seen the scar he bears, yes?” He asked her. She nodded, pointing to her forehead. “It was given to him the night Voldemort attacked. In the magical… _conflagration_  Voldemort marked him. It is my belief that the Dark Lord can somehow…see Harry. What he is doing, what he feels. A telepathic link, as it were.”

“You're afraid of spilling your plans to him in case Moldy-butt is listening in.” Faith said, matter of fact.

“Precisely. But Harry  _cannot_  know about this link. Under any circumstances. If he knows, then Voldemort could know.” Dumbledore said.

Faith bit her lip. He'd basically sworn her to secrecy. And it pained her because she didn't wanna keep secrets from the boy. Too many people were doing that already. But at the same time, Dumbledore had a very, very good point. Right now, The Order of the Phoenix and Voldemort were locked in a war of attrition and it was even money in pick 'em who would crumble first. So every edge, every advantage at this point mattered. The more information the Order had and the less Voldemort had mattered.

“I gotta give him something to go on, D.” Faith said. “I don't like lying to him or keeping secrets from him.” She shook her head. “He trusts me. I keep shit from him, he's gonna stop trusting me.” She leaned against the wall.

“Now you see the dilemma I am faced with.” Dumbledore said. “I hate that I have to distance myself from him and not being able to tell him why.” She could hear the sadness in his tone.

“I've gotta at least tell him why.” Faith said. “Yeah, it loses us a piece of information, but at the same time, it, at least, brings Harry back to the table, you know?”

“I will leave the charge of young Harry to you. Tell him if you feel you must.” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “If you value his trust, then tell him why. But know that if you do…” He shook his head. “We will not be able to bring you into our meetings.”

“Was that something you were planning to do?” Faith asked.

He nodded. “It was. But if you divulge this secret to Harry, we will trust you with no others. I am sorry.”

“So…if I spill this to Harry, I'm out of the Order?” Faith asked. “But I keep Harry's trust. If I  _don't_ tell him, you'll let me into the Order of the Phoenix?”

“Pending the approval of the rest of the group, yes.” Dumbledore said. “It is a hard decision, Faith. But in war, hard decisions must be made.”

“You know…” Faith said, looking up at him. “There are people that think you're crazier than a shithouse rat.” He smiled and nodded. “But that ain't it at all. You're way too fucking manipulative and clever to be crazy.”

“What is your decision, Faith?” He asked her.

“Can I talk to Harry, first?” She asked. “I'm betting you'll know if I tell him or not.” Dumbledore again nodded. “Give me a few minutes with him upstairs, alright?”

“Fair enough. But I must leave soon.” Dumbledore said.

Faith ran from the room and headed up the stairs. She pushed open the door and looked to Harry. “We gotta talk in private.” She said to him.

“We'll give you the room.” Hermione said.

Faith looked to Fred and George. “None of those ear things you guy have. This is a private conversation.” She said, sternly. “I'm not fuckin' joking. I will bust the both of you up.” The twins paled. She looked at Hermione and Ginny. “You two make sure they behave while we talk?”

“We'll make sure.” Hermione said. “Come on. Let them talk.”

After they were gone, Faith began pacing the room.

“What did they ask you?” Harry asked her.

“About who I was, what I was doing in London, that kind of shit. Just about my background. I told them pretty much what I told you.” She sighed and turned to face him. “Do you trust me?” She asked, simply.

“Of course, I do.” Harry said, narrowing his eyes. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Because I'm going to share something with you. It's a choice I have to make. I've got two options and I need to know what you think I should do.” She moved over and sat on the bed beside him. “I know why Dumbledore has been keeping you in the dark.” She put a finger to his lips, shushing him. “ _But_  if I tell you why, I won't be allowed to attend the Order of the Phoenix meetings.”

“If…if you don't tell me you'll be allowed to join the Order of the Phoenix?” He asked her, his voice neutral.

“That's what he's saying. The only thing is I can't tell you what we talk about.” She took his hands. “But I want you to understand something. I'll have to keep secrets, yes. But I  _can_  promise that come what may, I will never put you in danger. If you knowing what I know will save your life or the life of someone close, I'll tell you. I don't care what the Order thinks.” She pulled him closer. “I promise you that, Harry.”

He was terribly conflicted. He wanted desperately to know the reason he wasn't being told anything. He bit his lip to keep from asking her outright. Yes, he wanted to know, but at the same time, Faith had outright pledged herself to protect him. And with what he'd seen her do, he felt very, very safe near her. To know that she was part of not only personally looking out for him, but that she would be in on the planning of the war…that made him feel even better. “What can you tell me?”

She sighed and thought a moment. “It's not that Dumbledore doesn't trust you, or that he thinks you can't take care of yourself. It has nothing to do, honestly with you at all.” She shook her head. “All I can ask is that you trust  _me_. You don't have to trust anyone else, just trust in me.”

He stared at her and gave her a warm smile. “I do trust you Faith. Is it something I should be worried about?”

“Not yet.” She said to him. “It may end up being nothing at all. Only time will really tell. Right now, concentrate on this trial and your school. We've got the rest handled.”

“I think you being a part of the Order would be more beneficial in the long run.” He pulled her in and kissed her. “I trust you, Faith.” He said, softly.

“Oh, I did get Dumbledore to agree that you don't have to go back to the Dursleys.”

“Should we start looking for a cottage in Hogsmeade?” Harry asked.

“Starting to like that idea.” Faith said, getting to her feet. “I've gotta go back and talk to Dumbledore before he leaves. I'll be back in a few minutes.”

“Okay. And thanks for giving me the choice, Faith.” Harry said. “It means a lot to me.”

She smiled at him and ran from the room, taking the stairs in leaps and bounds. She moved to open the door and stopped. Instead, she knocked, waiting for a response. Molly Weasley answered it and smiled, allowing Faith to step inside. Faith looked at Dumbledore. “I gave him the choice. I didn't tell him.” She said to him.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. “Just.” He said, grinning.

“Just wasn't against the rules.” She returned. “So what now?”

“We've been discussing bringing you into the Order. There are some…concerns.” Dumbledore said. “Some of those gathered have called your state of mind into question.”

“You're afraid that I might say screw it and join Voldemort?” Faith asked, looking at the group. There were quite a few nods. “That's a legit question.” She said. “You don't know.” She pointed to Tonks. “You really don't know if Severus there might throw his lot in with Voldemort. You may think you do, but you really don't. No one can ever be one hundred percent sure. You trust him because Dumbledore trusts him. All of you accept each other because someone else vouches for them. Granted I don't have anyone to vouch for me. Just Harry. He's the one I'm close to. And he's alright with me being a part of the team and keeping what we talk about from him. He's okay with that. He trusts my judgment and he trusts me. I promised him that I wouldn't keep something from him if it'll endanger him, but I'm guessing we all made that promise.”

“There's still the issue of trust.” Severus said. “What have you done to earn ours?”

“Um…did you miss the part where I beat a Dementor nearly to death?” Faith asked him.

“That doesn't mean you aren't working with the Dark Lord.” He shot back. He smiled at her and reached into his pocket, pulling out a vial. “We could always make sure.”

“What is that?” She asked him.

“Veritaserum.” He said to her. “A truth potion. It makes the imbiber tell the truth.”

Faith raised an eyebrow. “And you…just happened to be carrying that in your pocket?”

“I like to be prepared.” He said, shrugging.

“What are you, Batman?” She asked him. “You got a utility belt?”

He ignored her and raised his eyebrow. “Are you willing to drink this and answer our questions?”

“Sure.” Faith said. “I pretty much told you everything.”

Molly moved over and swatted him on the shoulder. “That's enough, Professor Snape. She's already proven that she…”

“No. The Professor has a point.” Faith said moving over to Snape. She snatched the bottle from him and nearly downed it. Snape caught her wrist and pulled the bottle from her.

“It is extremely hard to make. Don't waste it.” He took a glass with water in it and poured three droplets into it. “Drink this.” He said to her.

She swallowed it. She smacked her lips and shuddered. “Ick. That tastes like athletes foot.”

“The effects are immediate.” Snape said. “Are you working with Voldemort or someone that is?”

“Nope.” Faith said, shaking her head. “Never met the guy or anyone that works for him. At least…” She furrowed her brow. “I don't think I have.”

“Do you regret what you did in America?” Kingsley asked.

“Every day.” Faith said. “There isn't a day goes by that I don't wish I could take it back. Make it up to Buffy and her friends.” Faith wasn't necessarily worried about the potion. Thanks to her slayer metabolism and constitution, she couldn't even tell she'd taken anything. But they weren't the people to admit that to.

“Do you love Harry Potter?” Molly asked her again. She  _really_  wanted to know.

Faith looked at her and grinned. “Don't know. Ain't never been in love before. No frame of reference.”

Molly cursed. “Dang it.”

Faith winked at her. “Nice try, though.”

“Will you keep the Order's secrets?” Dumbledore asked.

“As long as they don't put Harry or any of the people he cares about at risk.” Faith returned.

“What are you going to do if Harry is expelled from Hogwarts?” Tonks asked. Everyone looked at her. “What? I wanna know.”

“Harry and I already discussed this.” She grinned. “We'd empty his vault and leave Britain.”

That seemed to shock everyone. “Where would you go?” Dumbledore asked.

“Haven't decided yet. Japan sounds nice.” Faith said, shrugging.

“Alright. That's enough.” Sirius said, moving beside the girl. “Severus, give her the antidote.”

Snape sighed and dropped a bit of a different bottle into another glass.

Faith downed it and again shuddered. “God. Do all potions taste like boiled pig ass?”

“Just the really potent ones.” Snape responded.

“Did I put your mind at ease?” She asked him. He gave her a subtle nod. “Good.”

“Does anyone else have any objections?” Dumbledore asked. When everyone shook their heads, he turned to Faith. “Then, my dear Faith, welcome to the Order of the Phoenix.”

“I'll try not to let any of you down.” She said, smiling. For the first time that she could remember, she was accepted. She was a part of something bigger than herself.

And if felt damn good, to be honest.

 


	5. Chapter 5

"Faith?” Molly asked her. “Would you be a dear and go upstairs to get the children? Let them know that it's time for dinner?”

“Sure thing.” The slayer said, moving out of the room and up the stairs. She entered the room to again see the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione. “Meeting's over. Dinner is ready.” Faith said. She looked at Harry and smiled. She moved over and lifted him from the bed, pulling him in for a hug and a kiss.

“Lucky sod.” Fred said as he left the room with his twin brother in tow.

Hermione sighed and watched the pair. “Harry deserves this, I think.” She whispered to Ron.

Ron shrugged and turned to leave the room. Ginny stared at the pair for a moment then followed her brother.

Harry and Faith parted and he stared into her eyes. “I trust you, Faith.” He said softly.

“They used something called Veritaserum.” Faith said, her eyes sparkling.

Harry was shocked. “That…that's a truth serum.” He said, suddenly angry. “What did they ask you?”

“Some dude named Severus Snape wanted to know if he could trust me. Wanted to know if I was working for Moldy-butt.” She giggled. “I didn't have the heart to tell any of them that it didn't work. I'm damn near immune to poisons and shit.”

“What?” Harry asked, surprised.

“Yeah. Being a slayer I have a wicked high constitution. And my metabolism is jacked all to hell. He put three drops of it in some water and I downed it.” She shook her head. “Couldn't even tell I drank it.” She took his hand and led him on. “Come on. Let's go get something to eat. I'm starving.” She said.

They made it out of the room when they heard a tremendous  _crash_  from the floor below. Faith ran and immediately dove over the banister, believing some sort of fight was taking place. She dropped to the ground beside Tonks, who'd apparently tripped over the umbrella stand. “You alright?” Faith asked her.

“ _Tonks_!” Molly cried loudly.

“I'm sorry!” Tonks said, as Faith helped her to her feet. “It's that stupid umbrella stand, that's the second time I've tripped over…” She never got the words out, before the hall erupted in a horrendous bloodcurdling screech.

“For fuck's sake, what is that?” Faith shouted, planting her hands over her ears. The moth-eaten curtains suddenly flew apart. There wasn't a door behind them at all, but a painting of an old woman in a black cap was screaming as if she was being tortured. Faith couldn't help but grimace at the hideous visage. She was drooling madly, her eyes rolled about, and the sallow skin on her face stretched as she shrieked. The rest of the paintings heard her and suddenly began screaming as well. “God damn, can anyone shut this hag up?”

Lupin and Mrs. Weasley ran forward and tried desperately to close the curtains, but they refused to budge. The woman in the painting tried clawing at them. “Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers…”

“Look, I'm sorry.” Tonks said as she hefted the umbrella stand off the floor. “I didn't mean to knock it over.”

Molly abandoned the curtains and began moving up and down the hall, tapping her wand to the remaining paintings, silencing them. Sirius Black came running out of the room, roaring at the woman. “Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut UP!” He seized the curtains Mrs. Weasley had abandoned.

The old woman blanched. “Yoooou!” She howled, her eyes widening at the sight of him. “Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!”

“I said shut UP!” He shouted. Faith ran forward and helped the pair pulled the curtains closed. The old woman screams finally died away and fell silent.

“Jesus Christ, who the hell was she?” Faith asked.

Harry was behind her, smiling as he saw Sirius for the first time since arriving. “Faith, Harry? You've just met my mother.”

“Your…?” Harry began.

Sirius nodded. “My dear old mum, yeah. We've been trying to get her down for a month but we think she put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of the canvas. Let's go quick. Before they all wake up again.”

“You want me to try and get her down?” Faith asked, cracking her knuckles.

Sirius looked at her and shrugged. “You're more than welcome to try.”

Faith nodded and turned, throwing the curtains open. The woman immediately began screaming again. Everyone stepped back. Faith smacked the painting hard. “Hey! Grandma! Shut your god damn mouth and listen!” The old woman, for her part did as Faith said, though it was more out of shock at the girl's cheek than any sense of intimidation. “Good. You yellin' is really pissing me off.” She began inspecting the sides of the painting. She could tell that it was secured very well to the wall. She turned to Sirius. “How badly do you want her down?”

“Very.” He said, angrily.

Faith nodded and drove her fist into the plaster beside the painting. The woman was shrieking again. Faith ignored her and ripped the wall apart, finally tossing the giant painting to the floor. She stepped back and looked at him. “There you go.”

Everyone stood staring at the gaping hole in the wall. Sirius sighed and shook his head. “Never let it be said that you aren't a problem solver.” He pulled his wand and waved it at the wall. “ _Reparo_.” The plaster and wood quickly repaired itself, looking as though it was never broken down in the first place.

“That is seriously awesome.” Faith said, smiling. “What do you wanna do with her?” She asked, looking down at the painting.

“We'll find somewhere to put her.” Lupin said, lifting the painting. The woman began shrieking loudly again.

“For god's sake.” Faith said. She whipped her knife out and quickly slashed along the sides, top and bottom of the portrait as Lupin held it. The painting itself dropped to the floor from the frame. She knelt, stabbed her knife into the floor and rolled the painting up and stood with her knife, handing the painting to the werewolf. “There.” She said. “Gotta be easier to deal with.”

He leaned the frame against the wall and took the painting. “Indeed. Thank you.”

Tonks looked from Faith, to Lupin, to Sirius and back to Faith. “We are  _thick_. Why didn't we ever think of doing that?”

Sirius chuckled and shook his head. “I have no idea.” He said, tossing one arm around Faith's shoulders and about Harry's. “Let's go have some dinner.”

“That actually begs the question.” Tonks said, moving up beside Faith. “What were you two doing in bed when we got to your flat? It was only half past seven.”

“We were heading into London in the morning.” Harry said. “Faith was thinking of purchasing a car.”

“Saw a lot when we were in town last time. Guy had a really sweet old Jag Mark 2 for sale. We stopped and checked it out. The engine and all the electrics had been redone. Only wanted twenty five grand for it.” Faith said. “Only had a rebuilt supercharged AJ27 four liter, but that's still three hundred and seventy five ponies. Lotta beef for an old school luxury sedan like that.” She saw Tonks' face and sighed. “And you have no idea what I'm talking about do you?”

“Sorry. You lost me at Jaguar Mark 2.” She said, shaking her head. “I know what that is, but beyond that? Sorry.”

“That's alright.” Faith said, sadly. “I'm kinda getting used to knowing a lot and knowing nothing all at once.”

They made it into the room to see the remainder of the Order cleaning up parchments and what have you. Molly, Arthur and Ginny were pulling plates out of an ancient looking cabinet. “If you want dinner before midnight I'll need a hand,” Mrs. Weasley said to the room at large. Harry rose to his feet, but Molly stayed him. “No, you can stay where you are, Harry dear, you've had a long journey.”

“What can I do, Molly?” Tonks asked enthusiastically.

Molly looked at her, apprehensive. “Er, no it's all right, Tonks. You have a rest too. You've done enough today.”

“No, I want to help.” Tonks said, moving closer and knocking over a chair.

“Okay.” Faith said, rushing over and taking Tonk's shoulders. “Why don't you show me where the bathroom is? I gotta pee.” She gave Molly a wink.

The woman gave her an appreciative smile. “Yes, show Faith someplace she can freshen up.” Molly instructed Tonks. “That would be a great help, dear.”

“Come on, Faith.” Tonks said, happily. Faith followed her out of the kitchen.

“Can I ask you a question?” Faith said as she walked beside the girl.

“Why am I such a clutz when I can fight like I do?” Tonks asked, looking at her.

“Pretty much.” Faith said. She stopped by the huge umbrella stand and lifted it effortlessly, moving it over beside the door. “Things a damn trip hazard. And ugly as sin to boot.”

“It's a troll leg. As for your question, I don't rightly know.” Tonks said. “I'm just a tad clumsy.” She stopped and looked at Faith. “You don't really have to go to the loo do you?”

“Oh, no I gotta piss like a race horse.” Faith said. “But I didn't want you stumbling around the kitchen, either. Hot and sharp things everywhere?” Faith shook her head. “Hell no. Especially with…”

She was cut off as Molly's voice rang out. “Fred, George, no! Just carry them!” There was a series of loud bangs and a crash followed by the sound of splashing.

“Especially with  _those two_  anywhere near.” Faith said.

“For heaven's sake!” Screamed Molly. “There was no need…I've had enough of this! Just because you're allowed to use magic now, you don't have to whip your wands out for every tiny little thing!”

Faith shook her head. “Those boys, I swear to god. I hope it's a funny aneurysm.”

“Aneurysm?” Tonks asked, leading Faith along.

“Forget it.” Faith said, following behind.

Soon she and Tonks reentered the kitchen to see the Weasley twins wiping up great puddles of butterbeer from the floor and table. She moved around them and took a seat beside Harry. “Smells awesome, Mrs. Weasley.” Faith said, smiling at her. “You know…” She pulled her knife out. “I can cut their hands off so they won't cause any more trouble.” She said, her voice iron tight, but her eyes twinkling.

Molly immediately saw where Faith was going with it. “That  _is_  a good idea.” She said, turning to her sons. The pair looked at her and Faith in horror. “Might take her up on that if the pair of you don't learn to be more responsible with your magic.”

“We'll be good.” George offered, looking at Faith.

She was turning the knife over in her hand and grinning like a skull. She ran her finger along the blade, drawing a shallow channel in her skin. The then stared the pair of them in the eyes and slowly, garishly licked her finger clean of blood. They quickly went back to their work, doing their best to ignore her.

“I  _really_ like her.” Tonks said, happily. She offered her fist to Faith. The slayer bumped it immediately.

Soon the room was quiet as the tinking of plates and cutlery permeated. Faith watched the group and noticed immediately that Sirius seemed to be somewhat distant. As they all spoke, his tone seemed full of sarcasm and bitterness. Each time Dumbledore was brought up, he went somewhat cold.

Tonks, meanwhile was sitting across the table entertaining Ginny and Hermione by turning her nose into various other people's at one point into a mushroom. After a few seconds of giggling, the girls began making requests. Faith couldn't help but snicker.

She turned to Ron, Fred and George as a man dressed like just about the most raggedy bum she'd ever seen was regaling them with a story about frogs. Apparently he'd stolen them from someone and sold them all back to the guy at double the price.

“I don't think we need to hear any more of your business dealings, thank you very much, Mundungus.” Mrs. Weasley said sharply, as Ron dropped his head to the table, laughing.

Faith narrowed her eyes. She leaned over to Harry. “Is that the guy that was supposed to be watching out for you when the Dementors hit?” Faith whispered.

Harry nodded, but didn't look at him. “Apparently Dumbledore was pretty angry.”

Faith turned and glared at the man. “When dinner is over, me and him are gonna have a pretty serious conversation about responsibility.” Faith said, angrily.

Sirius leaned over to her. “Let it go.” The man said, softly. “Dumbledore's already got him in the doghouse.”

Faith turned to Sirius. “I've got a right mind to drag him out of the doghouse and put him in the damn intensive care unit.”

Sirius nodded. “You're not the only one.” Her said to her.

“If he's such a flake, why's he here?” Faith asked.

“He's useful,” Sirius muttered. “Knows all the crooks…well, he would, seeing as he's one himself. But he's also very loyal to Dumbledore, who helped him out of a tight spot once. It pays to have someone like Dung around, he hears things we don't. But Molly thinks inviting him to stay for dinner is going too far. She hasn't forgiven him for slipping off duty when he was supposed to be tailing Harry.”

“Neither have I.” Faith said. As the night wore on, she ate like a horse, surprising everyone in the room. “You're a really good cook, Mrs. Weasley. That was delicious.”

“Thank you, Faith.” The woman said, happily. “I appreciate that.”

“Did you need help cleaning up?” Faith asked. Molly was absolutely flabbergasted at the offer. She stared at Faith for several seconds. “What? I got something on my face?”

“None of my children have ever offered to help clean up before.” Molly said.

“That's because everything at our house is bewitched to clean itself.” George said.

“Dude.” Faith said, looking at him. “Still doesn't hurt to ask, man. I mean she's cooking the food, least you can do is help clear the table.”

“Thank you, Faith.” Molly said, giving her bright matronly smile. “I can see that Harry's got himself a good girl in you.”

Faith blushed as she looked at him. “He's not the only lucky one.” She offered, softly.

“But I've got it, sweetie. Though, I do appreciate the offer.” Molly said to her.

Everyone sat about, looking lethargic. Faith, for her part was actually kind of wired.

“Nearly time for bed, I think.” The woman said, stifling a yawn.

“Not just yet, Molly.” Sirius said, turning to regard Harry. “You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort.”

Faith looked at him in surprise. Dumbledore had sworn her to secrecy. Just as he had everyone else, she imagined. She hated keeping secrets from him, but she understood the reason and it was a  _damn good_  reason. But she was suddenly heartened because it seemed that Sirius was going to spill all for her. She didn't have to betray Dumbledore's trust and Harry would still know, if this went where she thought – and hoped – it would.

“I did!” said Harry indignantly. “I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so…”

“And they're quite right.” Molly said, her voice hard. “You're too young.”

Faith cocked her head and looked at Molly. “I've actually been curious about that.” She said to the woman. “Ron and Hermione I can kind of understand. I mean from what Harry's said, they've been through some serious stuff, but they aren't directly in Voldemort's crosshairs, so I get you not letting them in on it. And trust me, with what Dumbledore said to me, I can understand you not wanting to let Harry in on  _everything_ , but saying  _he's_  too young and maintaining that as the reason is…I'm only seventeen.” She said, looking at all of them. “And I was called as a slayer when I was Harry's age. I was fighting hundred year old vampires when I was fifteen. I watched my first Watcher get ripped apart when I was fifteen.” She shook her head. “Age has nothing to do with anything. Especially in war.”

Molly stared at Faith with a look of sorrow and anger. She couldn't argue with what the girl was saying. Mainly because it would be foolish to argue with the truth and Molly did not fancy herself a foolish woman.

“Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?” Sirius continued on. “Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen…”

“Hang on!” George interrupted them both.

“How come Harry gets his questions answered?” Fred asked angrily.

“We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!” George shot out.

“ _You're too young, you're not in the Order_.” said Fred, in a near pitch perfect impersonation of his mother's voice. “Harry's not even of age!”

“It isn't either of you that Voldemort is hunting down to rip your heart out and wear it as a brooch.” Faith snapped.

“Good lord, Faith.” Molly said, looking at the girl. “Such a wonderful mental image.”

“Can't deny it's effectiveness though.” Tonks offered.

“She's taking the threat seriously, Molly.” Moody interjected.

“It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's doing.” Sirius said to the twins, calmly. “That's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand…”

“It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!” Mrs. Weasley warned sharply. Faith could see that the calm matronly image was gone, replaced with the inner dangerous that all mothers, when challenged, were capable of.

But Faith couldn't leave it alone. “Um…excuse me for butting in here, but…how do you figure it isn't Sirius' place to decide what's best for Harry? If I'm not mistaken, he  _is_  Harry's godfather isn't he?” She looked at the gathered group. “I'm not sure how it works in here, but in the states, if the parents kark it, the godfather takes over as the kid's legal guardian.” She looked to Sirius. “Does it work that way here, or am I missing something?”

Sirius looked at her and shook his head. “From the mouths of babes.” He said, motioning to Faith while turning to Molly. “She's right on the money.”

“Things are more complicated than that.” Molly said, doing her best to will Faith into silence.

Faith, however was getting tired of the grownups trying to pretend the younger people in the room didn't know anything. “You know, that just keeps getting more and more lame every time adults say it.” She stared directly at Molly. “Don't treat us like we're stupid. Harry and I have dealt with shit that would straighten your hair and make you scream like a little girl.” She shook her head. “Don't patronize us.”

Molly rose to her feet. Faith quickly followed suit. “I'll not be…”

“Sit…” Faith growled. “Down.”

Ron, George, Fred and Bill all looked at Faith like she was stark raving mad. Ginny was just shocked.

“Need I remind you that you are a guest in this house…” Molly began.

“As are you!” Sirius shot to the woman. “Both of you sit down.” He snapped. Faith did as she was told, but Molly stayed standing.

“You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?” She asked him.

“Which bit?” Sirius asked politely. Faith could feel the tension coming off of him. He was spoiling for a fight. Harry, for his part, didn't seem to know what to do or say. Faith did know however, that if it came down to it, she was siding with the master of the house. He was a decent man and Harry thought the world of him. That meant he was special to her by proxy.

“The bit about not telling Harry more than he  _needs to know._ ” Molly said, emphasizing the last few words.

The Weasley children, with Hermione were now turning back and forth as though watching a game of table tennis. Lupin and Tonks were both staring at Sirius. “I don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly.” Sirius offered. “But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back he has more right than most to…”

“He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!” Mrs. Weasley growled. “He's only fifteen and…”

“And he's dealt with as much as most in the Order.” Sirius shot out. “And more than some…”

“No one's denying what he's done!” Mrs. Weasley said, her voice rising and her fists trembling with anger. “But he's still…”

“Don't!” Faith snapped, looking at the woman. “I swear to god, don't you even fucking say it!” She again shot to her feet. “He's not a child. He's not a little boy.”

“He's not an adult either!” Molly said to her. She was turning red now. Faith saw this but didn't give a damn. “He's not James!”

“We're perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly.” Sirius said coldly.

“I'm not sure you are!” She shot back. “Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!”

“What's wrong with that?” Harry finally managed to get a word in.

“What's wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him!” Mrs. Weasley said, her eyes still boring into both Sirius, who was calmly seated, and Faith who was leaning on the table staring at her.

“Well, no fuckin' shit, lady!” Faith shouted at her. “We  _know_  Harry isn't his damn father.” She leaned closer. “Voldemort  _killed_ him. Harry's tangled with Voldemort three times thus far and has whooped his ass every time. James Potter tangled with him once and got smoked. It's damn clear Harry isn't his father. Not to mention the fact that Harry iced Voldemort's pet Basilisk. How many Dragons have  _you_  taken out?”

“Basilisk's a snake, not a dragon.” Moody growled.

“It can swallow a school bus and has scales? It's a fuckin' dragon.” Faith said, looking from him, back to Molly.

“Well it's not.” Moody said, softly.

“Stay out of it.” Lupin said, resting a hand on Moody's arm. “Just stay out of it.”

“Harry is still at school and adults responsible for him should not forget it!” Molly snapped at Faith.

“Oh, but you all did forget about it, didn't you?” Faith shouted back. “If not for  _me_ , he'd be fucking dead.” She shook her head. “Where were you all when he needed you the most?” She pointed to Mundungus. “This asshole was off doing who the fuck knows what when Harry was about to get a mudhole stomped in his ass. To say nothing of where you all left him.” Faith was done being respectful. She was done being polite. “If  _any_  of you…” She turned to Sirius. “This includes you, pal. If  _any_  of you had bothered to give one damn about Harry, as a person and not as a fucking  _weapon_  to be used against Voldemort, you'd have stepped in and taken him in yourselves. You all went on and on about this protection, bullshit. About how…”

“You don't know…” Molly began.

“Don't interrupt me again.” Faith said. “I shit you not, woman, do not interrupt me again.” She stared Molly in the eyes and let her see the slayer in all her fury. “Harry spent ten years with the Dursleys before going to Hogwarts. Ten years before any of you even saw hide nor hair of Voldemort. In all that time, was Harry's life ever in danger? Was he ever threatened by anything but the people you all left him with?” Faith shook her head. “No. He wasn't. He was beaten, neglected, slaved to the bone and ignored. And as far as I can see it was for no damn reason. And, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but if Dumbledore hadn't dragged the Philosopher's Stone to Hogwarts in the first place, a powerful artifact that everyone  _knew_  evil as hell wizards would be looking for, Harry and Voldemort would never have even crossed paths. So, because of Dumbledore, Harry wasn't only thrown into a one way handbasket to hell being sent to the Dursleys, but he  _engineered_ Harry's first confrontation with Voldemort, for no better reason than to make Harry  _accept_  that he had no choice but to live with the Dursleys.” She looked at the woman. “During Harry's second year, the protection was a no count because it was for all intents and purposes a haunted diary and a dragon – shut up Moody, don't care what you say – so the protection spell didn't mean shit. Voldemort never even bothered Harry during his third year, and by the time the Tri-wizard Tournament was over, the protection had failed.” Everyone in the room was stunned into silence. None of them, but none of them had ever heard the facts laid out so plainly before. “So when you get right down to it, there was only one time in Harry's life, before the whole protection spell was broken, that it mattered and if it weren't for the deeds of  _one_  man, their meeting would never have happened.” She looked around the room. “Now…tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that Dumbledore is a grand, and benevolent old fart that only has Harry's best interests at heart. Tell me that he cares more for him than anyone alive. Tell me he thinks of Harry as more than just a means to an end.” The room was quiet. Even Molly, who was just seconds ago red faced with rage…was now pale with barely contained disgust. “I didn't think so.” Faith said, sitting down. “I rest my fucking case.” She turned to Harry and stared into his eyes. “I'm sorry.” She said softly to him. “I couldn't help myself.”

“Dumbledore said that he told you the reason why we can't explain things to Harry.” Moody said to Faith.

“Yeah, he did.” Faith returned. “And I for one, think he's got the right idea. It's a good reason and I agree with it.”

“Then why are you arguing so hard on the side of Sirius?” Molly asked her.

“Two reasons.” She said. She held up a finger. “One. This is his house. From god, to Sirius Black. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars and I just realized that none of you know what I'm talking about.”

“Monopoly.” Molly said. “Milton Bradley was a wizard. He was a squib, so he designed board games.” She shrugged. “Even wizards know Monopoly.”

“Huh.” Faith said. “Learn something new every day. My point is, this is the house that Black built. If he wants to tell Harry shit, then he's got the right. If he wants to dye his hair the same color as Tonks' and run around in a tutu singing  _I'm a Little Teapot_ , he's got that right. His house, his rules. You're being disrespectful as shit. Be glad it ain't my house. You'd have gotten windburn with how fast I'd have chucked your ass to the curb.” Faith said. “Two, as Harry's godfather, he's got more right that any of you, even Dumbledore himself, to determine what's best for Harry. Don't agree with telling him, but I also understand this. If your planning doesn't include Harry, then your rules don't apply to him. It wouldn't take anything for me and him to just disappear. I can always turn myself into the Watcher's Council and tell them that I wanna get back on the roster. Hell might do that anyway. But I'm pretty sure if I ask, they'll send me to someplace with a vampire problem. I'll take Harry with me. Having him at my side chucking spells would be nice to have.”

“He wouldn't be able to do magic.” George said. “He's not of age.”

Faith looked at him. “Yeah.” She said, sarcastically. “That'll stop us.”

“He's not your son.” Sirius said to Molly, his voice straining for calm.

“He's as good as.” Molly said, fiercely. “Who else has he got?”

“He's got me!” Sirius growled.

“Yes,” Molly returned. “The thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?”

Faith stabbed a finger toward her. “Don't you dare criticize him for that shit.  _You_ didn't even know Harry existed before he started going to Hogwarts. And even if you did, you sure as hell weren't a part of his life, now were you? If he's as good as a son, then you have a hell of a lot to learn about being a mother.”

Molly looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time. It was obvious that the words hurt the Weasley matriarch. “How… _dare_  you!” Molly said, her voice low and filled with rage. “I'd die for my children.” She pointed to Harry. “He is no exception to that.”

“Then where were you when Dumbledore dumped him at the Dursleys?” Faith said. “Leaving him with a family that everyone knew was a horrible group of people doesn't seem very motherly to me.”

“She has a point, Molly.” Sirius said. “Had I been free to, I would have taken Harry in, despite the protection spell. And if you give thought to Faith's observations regarding Harry's first meeting with Voldemort, if not for Dumbledore, it never would have come about.” He shook his head. “Until that moment, Harry was never really in any danger. Not directly, at any rate.”

Molly stared at the pair of them. At that moment, she felt ill. Ill because she knew that Faith was right. For a girl not familiar with the situation, beyond what Harry had told her, her grasp of it all was profound. There were complexities she was missing, sure, but…she was speaking the truth, as painful and hard to hear as it was. “I should have done something.” Molly said, her voice suddenly very small. She looked at Harry. “Had I known…had I believed that you weren't in any danger from Voldemort, I would have taken you as my own and raised you as my own son.” She looked to Faith. “But you see, we couldn't have known.” She said. “None of us thought Voldemort was truly gone. We always knew he would return some day.”

“Some day.” Faith said. “I'm sure there are ways to protect Harry that didn't include the Dursleys. There had to have been another way. I admit, hindsight is twenty-twenty and fifteen years ago, you couldn't have predicted that Voldemort and Harry would never have clashed, but of all of the minds in the Order, of all the power you all had at your disposal, the Dursleys just  _couldn't_  have been the best option. I'll never believe that.”

“Voldemort would never think to look for him there.” Moody said, simply.

Faith looked at him. “As sinister as Voldemort sounds? That's the  _first_  place he'd have looked. You know why?” Faith grinned. “Because you all would have led Voldemort right to him.” Everyone blanched at that. “Anyone want me to explain that?” They all nodded their heads. “First, Dumbledore was having him looked after. I can guarantee you that  _someone_  on big D's payroll was keeping tabs on Harry. If what you all say of Voldemort is true, it wouldn't take much for him to find out who. Second, barring that, he could have easily looked into James and Lily's family. See who they have that's still alive and start wiping them out one by one. But for the grace of god he  _didn't_. But only because he'd been whooped down so bad last time that he had to regroup.”

“How do you know that's what he would have done?” Lupin asked, curiously.

“Used to be evil, remember?” Faith said. “That's what I'd do. If I wanted Harry dead badly enough, I would have found him. The fact that for ten years all Harry had to deal with was the Dursley's bullshit, proves that Voldemort wasn't powerful enough, until recently to be a viable threat. Dumbledore  _had_  to know that. He had to know that Voldemort, while not gone, was defeated at the very least. For  _years_ , he wouldn't be a problem. That means he could have put Harry with any one of you all and spent some time figuring out another way of protecting him. Instead, he just sloughed him off on the first people he could find, based on a spell that, from the sounds of it, he really didn't understand and left Harry to rot.”

“I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this,” Lupin said into the silence of the room. “He's old enough to decide for himself.”

“I want to know what's been going on.” Harry said at once. He deliberately didn't look at Molly. He had been touched by the fact that the woman had said outright that she would have raised him as her own, but he was also irritated at being constantly treated like a child. He'd more than proven he was no normal child and that he could handle himself when the need arose.

“Very well.” Molly said, simply. “Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George. I want you out of this kitchen, now.”

The rest of the children went ballistic. George and Fred raged at being thrown out saying that they were of age and should be allowed to stay. Hermione and Ron looked at Harry. “You're just going to tell us anyway, won't you?” Hermione asked.

Harry looked at them for a long moment. He turned to look at Faith, who shook her head. The pair likewise turned to regard her. “And why not?” Hermione asked.

“Because he's going to be sworn to secrecy, just like you were. And the two of you didn't tell him shit.” She grinned. “Turnabout's fair play.”

All at once, Ron and Hermione deflated. Faith was absolutely right. They'd been told by Dumbledore not to say anything to Harry. And they kept their word. And now, here they were demanding Harry not keep his. “Sorry, Harry.” Ron said. The pair got to their feet and left the room, dragging Ginny along behind them. She was fussing all the way out of the hall to the stairs.

George and Fred, however were still putting up a fight. Faith immediately let out a sharp whistle. “Hey!” She snapped to the pair. “Zip it! Don't make her repeat herself.” She eyed them both dangerously. “Take a walk.” She thumbed toward the door. Seeing the look in her eyes, they knew better than to argue. Slowly, they rose and made their way out of the room. Faith followed them and closed the door behind them. She then turned, leaned against the door and crossed her arms.

“Okay, Harry…what do you want to know?” Sirius asked him.

“Not yet.” Faith said. She quickly slammed her open palm against the door.

“Bloody hell!” They heard one of the twins' voices from the other side.

Molly stormed over and ripped the door open. Both twins were kneeling, listening at the portal. “If you're going to eavesdrop you might as well get in here.” She said, grabbing them both by the ears. She dragged them to a pair of chairs. “Sit! And be quiet!” She looked at Faith with an appreciative nod. “Continue, Harry.” She said, sitting down beside her sons.

“Where is Voldemort? What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the muggle news.” He said looking around. “There hasn't been anything that looks like him, yet. No funny deaths or anything…”

“That's because there haven't been any suspicious deaths yet.” Sirius said. “Not as far as we know, anyway…and we know quite a lot, Faith stop looking at me like that.” He looked to the girl. She put her hands up and shook her head in surrender.

Lupin chuckled. “We know more than he thinks we do, anyway.”

“How come he's stopped killing people?” Harry asked. He knew that Voldemort had killed several people in the past year alone.

“I can actually answer that one.” Faith said. Everyone looked at her. “The best place to hide is in plain sight. He starts smokin' people, he's gonna draw attention to himself. The man's an evil mastermind, not a bloodthirsty psycho.”

Sirius nodded. “His comeback didn't come off quite the way he wanted it to, you see. He messed it up.”

“Or rather, you messed it up for him.” Lupin added with a satisfied smirk.

“How?” Harry asked.

“Really?” Faith said. “Seriously, baby?” She moved over and knelt beside him. “You screwed it all up for him because you beat wholesale ass. He was tryin' to take you out and you stomped a mudhole in his ass and walked it dry.”

“Where do you get these zingers?” Tonks asked. “I should be writing this down.”

Lupin looked at her and snickered before again addressing Harry. “And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return the moment he got back was Dumbledore. And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once.”

“How has that helped?” Harry asked.

Faith rose to stand behind him and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his chest and resting her chin on his head. “Good question.” She offered.

“Are you kidding?” Bill snapped incredulously. “Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was ever scared of!”

“Thanks to you, Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix about an hour after Voldemort returned.” said Sirius.

“So what's the Order been doing?” Asked Harry, looking around at them all.

“Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can't carry out his plans.” Sirius said. Faith eyed him. It was just about the most empty answer he could have come up with. Of course they were trying to keep him from getting his shit together. What else  _would_  they be doing? What Harry wanted to know was  _what_  they were doing to make sure he couldn't get everything squared. But she wasn't going to ask for him. If there was some link between them, specifics could spell the end for all involved. Harry, however seemed satisfied with the answer.

“How d'you know what his plans are?” The boy asked.

“Are you serious?” Faith asked, looking down at him.

“No. That's Harry.” George said, pointing at him.

“ _That's_  Sirius.” Fred offered, indicating the man of the house.

Molly rapped both of them on the back of the head with her wand. Faith, for her part just chuckled. “Voldemort's a Dark Lord. His plan is to kill a shit load of people, conquer the world and be all evil and shit. I'm sure true immortality might be in there somewhere, but for all intents and purposes that's about it.”

“How do you know that?” Moody asked, curiously.

“Because he's evil.” Faith said. “That's what evil people do. Haven't you ever read a book or watched a damn movie? The guy's Sauron from Lord of the Rings, or Emperor Palpatine from Star Wars. Tie damsels to the train tracks and turn the death ray on Metropolis kinda shit. Not that hard to figure out.”

“She's right. And that's what Dumbledore thinks. He wants to rebuild his army. In the old days he had huge numbers at his command; witches and wizards he'd bullied or bewitched into following him, his faithful Death Eaters, and a great variety of Dark creatures.” At the mention of 'Dark Creatures', Faith's mouth split into a wide grin.

“Now you're speakin' my language.”

Sirius looked at her. “Vampires and demons were among them, yes. He's trying to recruit the giants. He's certainly not going to try and take on the Ministry of Magic with only a dozen Death Eaters.”

“So you're trying to stop him getting more followers?” Harry asked him.

“We're doing our best.” Said Lupin.

“How?” Harry asked. Faith had to give him credit. He was asking some pretty good questions.

“Well, the main thing is to try and convince as many people as possible that You-Know-Who really has returned, to put them on their guard.” Bill spoke up. “It's proving tricky, though.”

“Why's that?” Faith asked. “Seems to me if you can show people that the big bad is back in town, they're not gonna wanna buy what he's selling.”

“It's the Ministry's attitude.” Tonks said. “You saw Cornelius Fudge after You-Know-Who came back, Harry. Well, he hasn't shifted his position at all. He's absolutely refusing to believe it's happened.”

Faith lifted an eyebrow. “I'm betting this guy isn't exactly most functional wand in the shop, is he?” That actually earned a lot of laughs from around the room. “See, I'm learning.”

“Why would he deny it?” Harry asked. “If Dumbledore is…”

“That's at the very crux of the issue, Harry.” Molly offered. “Dumbledore.”

“Fudge is frightened of him, you see.” Tonks said, sadly.

“Frightened of Dumbledore?” Harry spat incredulously.

“Frightened of what he's up to.” Arthur offered, deciding to join the conversation. “You see, Fudge thinks Dumbledore's plotting to overthrow him. He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister of Magic.”

Faith and Harry both shook their heads. “I don't see Dumbledore wanting to deal with quite that much political bullshit.” Faith said. Harry nodded his agreement.

“Of course he doesn't.” said Arthur. “He's never wanted the Minister's job, even though a lot of people wanted him to take it when Millicent Bagnold retired. Fudge came to power instead, but he's never quite forgotten how much popular support Dumbledore had, even though Dumbledore never applied for the job.”

Faith bit her lip. “You know, I think this Fudge guy is just worried that big D would do a better job. He's smarter, a lot more powerful if the vibe I'm getting is anything to go by.”

Lupin nodded. “In the early days of the Ministry, he was forever asking Dumbledore for advice.”

“But now that he's got a taste of the power, he doesn't wanna share with the other kids.” Faith offered, earning a nod from most of the room. “And now that he's in charge, he can spin it however he wants. He's the top dog and Dumbledore's just stirring the pot.”

Harry looked at her and to them. “How can he think that? How can he think that Dumbledore would just make it all up? That  _I'd_ make it all up?”

Faith sighed. “It's because if he accepts that Voldemort is back, people are going to look to him to solve it and keep them safe.” She shook her head. “That's something he can't do. Either he ain't smart enough, strong enough or both. Easier for him just to paint Dumbledore as a nutjob and leave it at that.”

“You see the problem.” Lupin said. “While the Ministry insists there is nothing to fear from Voldemort, it's hard to convince people he's back, especially as they really don't want to believe it in the first place.”

“Willful ignorance.” Faith said. “Where are the snipers when you need 'em?”

“What's more, the Ministry's leaning heavily on the  _Daily Prophet_ not to report any of what they're calling Dumbledore's rumor mongering. So most of the Wizarding community are completely unaware anything's happened, and that makes them easy targets for the Death Eaters if they're using the Imperius Curse.” Lupin concluded.

“The Ministry is issuing a media gag order?” Faith asked. “That's a long way to go. Is the  _Daily Prophet_  in the Ministry's back pocket or something?”

“Essentially.” Tonks said, nodding.

“But you're telling people, aren't you?” Harry asked, looking around at everyone. “You're letting people know he's back.”

They all smiled humorlessly but Faith answered the question for him. “It's hard to convince someone of something if they choose not to believe it. In Sunnydale, they have a vampire problem so bad that it's ridiculous. They have funerals at night. And there are over a dozen cemeteries. But the deaths are always reported as neck rupture and rabies. The party line for the cops is gang members on pcp.” She shook her head. “It's obvious, but no one wants to see it. It's the world we live in. Either they don't know, or they don't want to.”

Sirius nodded his agreement. “And as everyone thinks I'm a mad mass murderer and the Ministry's put a ten-thousand-Galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?”

“And I'm not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community.” Lupin said. “It's an occupational hazard of being a werewolf.”

“Tonks and Arthur would lose their jobs at the Ministry if they started shooting their mouths off.” Sirius added. “And it's very important for us to have spies inside the Ministry, because you can bet Voldemort will have them.”

“We've managed to convince a couple of people, though.” Arthur said optimistically. “Tonks here, for one…she's too young to have been in the Order of the Phoenix last time, and having Aurors on our side is a huge advantage. Kingsley Shacklebolt's been a real asset too. He's in charge of the hunt for Sirius, so he's been feeding the Ministry information that Sirius is in Tibet.”

“Always wanted to go there.” Faith said, looking at him.

“But if none of you are putting the news out that Voldemort's back…” Harry began.

“Who said none of us was putting the news out?” Sirius asked. “Why d'you think Dumbledore's in such trouble?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked. Faith was curious as well.

“They're trying to discredit him.” Lupin said, angrily. “Didn't you see the  _Daily Prophet_ last week? They reported that he'd been voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards because he's getting old and losing his grip, but it's not true, he was voted out by Ministry wizards after he made a speech announcing Voldemort's return. They've demoted him from Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot – that's the Wizard High Court – and they're talking about taking away his Order of Merlin, First Class, too.”

Bill chuckled. “But Dumbledore says he doesn't care what they do as long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog cards.”

“It's no laughing matter.” Arthur said, shortly. “If he carries on defying the Ministry like this, he could end up in Azkaban and the last thing we want is Dumbledore locked up. While You-Know-Who knows Dumbledore's out there and wise to what he's up to, he's going to go cautiously for a while. If Dumbledore's out of the way? Well, You-Know-Who will have a clear field.”

“But if Voldemort's trying to recruit more Death Eaters, it's bound to get out that he's come back, isn't it?” asked Harry desperately.

Faith thought that a very good question. “He's bound to run across someone that doesn't wanna play ball. If  _they_  dimed on him, then it would be a different story.”

“Voldemort doesn't march up to people's houses and bang on their front doors.” Sirius offered. “He tricks, jinxes, and blackmails them. He's well-practiced at operating in secrecy. In any case, gathering followers is only one thing he's interested in. He's got other plans too. Plans he can put into operation very quietly indeed, and he's concentrating on them at the moment.”

“Resource gathering.” Faith said. “Weapons, money, artifacts. Shit he needs to tempt people that aren't as easy to push around through fear and blackmail.”

“Right.” Sirius said. “He's looking into things he didn't have last time. He's making sure to do it properly this time.”

“What kind of weapons and artifacts would he be looking for?” Harry asked. “Something worse than the killing curse?”

“That's enough.” Molly said rising to her feet. “I want you in bed, now. All of you,” she added, looking around at the twins.

“You can't boss us…” Fred began.

“Watch me.” She snarled.

“She's your mom, dude. She can boss you around whenever she wants. Perks of the job.” Faith said, looking at Molly with a smile.

The woman gave her a nod. “You've given Harry plenty of information. Anymore and you might just as well induct him into the Order straightaway.”

“Why not?” Harry asked quickly. “I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight…”

“No.” Faith said to him. “Not yet.”

Harry looked up at her. “Why not?”

She took the seat beside him. “Do you remember what I asked you upstairs? I asked if you trusted me.” She said. “Do you?”

“Of course.” He said, taking her hands.

“Then trust me now. The time isn't right. When it is, I'm sure Dumbledore will make sure you're in. But until then, I'm asking you to trust _me_. Can you do that?”

He nodded without hesitation. “Promise me that you'll be careful.” He said to her.

“Besides, Harry, the Order is comprised only of overage wizards,” Lupin said. “Wizards who have left school.” He added. As Fred and George opened their mouths and began pointing at Faith, he continued. “There are dangers involved of which you can have no idea, any of you. But Faith is different. What she is, what she's capable of, is a worthy exception. We're all in agreement on that.” He rose to his feet. “I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough.”

Sirius shrugged and looked at Harry. “Just know that we're doing what we can.” He said to his godson.

Faith got to her feet and took Harry's hand. “Come on. Let's go to bed.”

“Faith you'll be sleeping with Hermione and Ginny.” Molly said, matter of fact.

“The hell I will.” Faith said, her tone just as determined. “Harry and I stay together. Not up for debate.”

“I'll not have…” Molly began.

“Sorry. Was there something in my tone of voice that made that sound like a suggestion?” Faith said. “I-sleep-with-Harry. Period. Finito. End of discussion. You don't like that idea, Harry and I will find a hotel for the night.” Harry gripped her hand a little tighter. Given what he'd learned tonight, he really wanted Faith beside him.

“You're both not of proper age to be sharing a bed.”

“We've been sharing a bed for the past week.” Faith said to her. “Besides that…” She looked at Sirius. “It ain't your call.”

Sirius looked to Molly. “If they wish to share a room, they're more than welcome to do so.”

Molly was beside herself. “I want no funny business.” She said, conceding to Sirius' wishes. It was, after all, his house. “No shenanigans, the pair of you.”

“I've tried.” Faith said, looking at Harry. “But he's being too much of a gentleman.”

“It's good one of you is showing discretion.” Molly said. As they walked along, her tone softened. “I understand what it's like to be young and in love.”

“You're a good lookin' chick.” Faith said. “I can tell you and your husband are in love.”

Molly blushed. “I'm very happy with my husband.”

“You disguise it well with having seven kids.” Faith returned with a chuckle. “All jokes aside, Harry and I seem to sleep better when we're together.”

Harry nodded. “Faith doesn't have nightmares and I don't wake up screaming in cold sweats.”

Molly sighed and looked at the pair. “I just don't want you two doing something you'll later regret.” 

“It's way too late for that.” Faith said.

“Anything  _else_  you'll regret.” Molly corrected.

“There you go.” Faith said. “I'm sorry I was such a bitch down there.” The girl said as they made the bedroom door. “I just…”

“I know.” Molly said. “You're young, you're angry at the world and…” She looked between the pair and their clenched hands. “It's quite alright. What you said, gave us all a lot to think about. Your manners and etiquette aside, you made several very good points. And all of them worth making. Having you as part of the Order will definitely be entertaining.” She pulled Faith in for a hug and pecked the top of her head. “You're a good girl, Faith. You're making a good choice sticking with Harry. With you together with him and with us, maybe we stand a fighting chance.”

“Well, fighting is the one thing I do well.” Faith said to her.

“I'm well aware.” Molly said. “The look on Severus' face was priceless.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

Faith stripped down to her tank top and underwear and stopped as she looked over at the painting on the wall. It was bare, but she could hear the soft chuckle from within. “Do all paintings in this house move and stare at you?” She asked.

“Most wizarding paintings do,” Harry said, following her eyes to the wall. “I don't care much for it, either.”

Faith walked over and pulled the painting down. She noticed that the wall behind the artwork was several shades brighter than the rest. “Gross,” She said, shaking her head. She moved over, opened the door and set the artwork against the wall, facing it. She closed the door and locked it behind her. “This place is fuckin' nasty, dude,” She said to Harry as she moved to the bed. “At least, the sheets and shit are clean.”

“Molly has probably been in a state worrying over the housekeeping,” Harry said as he got down to his boxers. “You heard what they were saying about Kreacher.”

“That he's booger-eatin' nuts?” Faith asked. “Why do you think I locked the door?” She climbed into the nice sized bed. “Comfy.”

Harry moved in and lay beside her. “Do you think Voldemort will be able to recruit the giants?” He asked, quietly.

“Can't say for sure. Depends on what he can offer them.” Faith said, shrugging. “I don't know that much about giants. I've gotta imagine that they aren't really gonna be intimidated by the whole 'look at my mighty stick and tremble' game that seems to freak out most wizarding types.”

Harry looked at her and chuckled. “You really aren't afraid of Voldemort, are you?”

“From what I've heard of him, no.” Faith said, shaking her head. “But you get right down to it, I also don't know that much about him. Only what you've told me. Everyone seems to be freaking out about him. I, personally don't see why, but I also know that, given the firepower present downstairs, if they're afraid of him, there's gotta be a reason.” She smiled at him. “But I've always had more courage than brains.”

Harry chuckled at that and lay on his back, pulling Faith in to snuggle up next to him. “I was lying a bit when I said I wasn't worried about the Ministry trial.”

“Figured.” Faith said, nodding. “You love going to Hogwarts. I can see it in your eyes when you talk about it. Can't say as I blame you. Truthfully, I think that was part of big D's plan. Put you with the Dursleys and keep you away from the wizarding world as a whole so you'd embrace it with everything you were once you did find out about it. You'd fight tooth and nail to protect it once you got a taste.”

Harry turned to regard her. “You really think that he's  _that_  manipulative?”

“Man's old as Big Ben. He's also been in positions of serious authority. You don't get there without being able to work the system and the people within it.” She stared at him. “Everyone says that Voldemort's afraid of him. Think about that for a minute. Literally the most vile, reprehensible and flat out evilest motherfucker in the wizarding world…is  _afraid_  of  _Dumbledore_. The guy that everyone thinks is bat-shit insane. There ain't but two ways someone like Voldemort is going to be afraid of someone. One, they're more powerful. And I mean  _way_  more powerful. Two, they're eviler. More terrifying. As someone who, from what Sirius said has commanded  _legions_  in the past, I don't see Voldy being afraid of someone that's more powerful than him. And Dumbledore might be able to lay the magical smackdown, but I wouldn't bet the farm on it. But if even if he can, Voldemort isn't going to be afraid of that, alone. And from the way things are reading in the newspaper, he isn't afraid of anyone knowing of his return. That only leaves one reason that Voldemort  _would_  be afraid of Dumbledore. It's because he knows, deep down, Dumbledore can be just as merciless and manipulative as he is. Big D isn't evil, but he sure as hell isn't the benevolent hero everyone is painting him out to be. At least, that's the aura he's giving off.”

Harry listened to her and frowned. Even after everything was said and done, he respected Dumbledore. He had a hard time believing what Faith was saying. “I don't believe that,” He said, sourly.

“I know you don't. But I know things about Dumbledore that you don't.” Faith said. “Make no mistake, I think what he's doing is genius. It's like what people say about Batman. He's the hero we need, not the hero we want.”

“What is he doing that's so smart?” Harry asked.

“Painting himself as a villain to the Ministry and taking center stage for them so the rest of the Order can work in secret. Tonks, Shacklebolt, and Arthur, in the light of what big D is doing, are able to fly under the radar. They can move around the Ministry and get shit done while Dumbledore is taking the heat.”

Harry listened to that and paused to think about it. Sirius said that Dumbledore was trying to convince people that Voldemort was back. But, hearing what Faith said just now, he realized that it wasn't true at all. Dumbledore knew Cornelius Fudge quite well. He knew – he just had to – that the man wouldn't believe him. But Dumbledore also knew that Fudge was incredibly paranoid. He would suspect everywhere. Dumbledore needed that suspicion directed toward someone other than the members of the Order. So he made himself a target. He directly challenged Fudge's belief that Voldemort had returned. He did so loudly and often. As he stared at her, he realized that she was right. Dumbledore  _was_  a genius.

Faith could see the dawning realization on his face. “Dumbledore is thinking like Voldemort because to properly fight him, he  _has_  to.”

Harry nodded. “I suppose he does at that.”

Faith kissed him on the lips. “Good night, Harry,” She said, before settling in. She didn't realize how tired she was.

“Good night, Faith.” Harry returned. He closed his eyes and found sleep.

With sleep, came dreams. Terrible, strange and vivid dreams. But through them all, Faith was there, fighting beside him, comforting him…loving him.

For Faith's part, her dreams were much the same. She faced down the black tide of what Voldemort would throw at them. She stood amid the field of battle beating down dark wizards, werewolves, vampires and giants of impressive height. And all the while, Harry never left her side, his wand unleashing fire, pain and death to the burgeoning tide. There were frightening images…to anyone but a slayer.

The next day, the day before Harry's trial, Faith sat down with Sirius Black and questioned him on the Wizengamot. She was going to be there for the trial, she wanted to be certain she knew what she was getting into. He also found some books that Faith dove into that detailed a lot of wizarding law.

She learned quite a bit. They were old school and very biblical in their sentencing. They had the air of people that didn't believe they could even  _possibly_ be wrong. In short, their word was law and that was the end of it. Given that, she realized that Harry could very well be expelled and his wand destroyed.

“But he does have a bright spot in all of this,” Sirius said, smiling. “You.”

“Me?” Faith asked, somewhat surprised. “Why me?”

“I don't know if you realize this or not, but what you did? Attacking and physically harming a Dementor?” He shook his head. “Isn't possible. I would know. I was in Azkaban for over a decade. Believe me, I tried. Physical assaults pass right through them.”

“So…I'm literally the only one that's ever been able to hurt a Dementor?” Faith asked him. “Why?”

“I've been talking it over with Alastor. He believes it's because of your slayer abilities. What makes you a menace to the supernatural world also allows you, and only you, to harm them. They're a supernatural threat, you see. And that is what the slayer is born to combat. When Harry's trial comes about, your involvement will be called into question. The Wizengamot won't believe that you have the ability to do as you say. You can prove them wrong. Have them bring in a Dementor and give you a go at it. That'll impress them.”

Faith grinned widely. “Yeah, it probably will.”

Harry was set to help with cleaning of the house. But to him, it seemed more pitched warfare than anything else. He finally met Kreacher, the lone house-elf. And he was none too impressed with the ghoulish little creature. Dobby was actually incredibly nice to Harry, despite belonging to the Malfoy's – until Harry engineered his freedom – but Kreacher was something else entirely. He would follow behind the group and attempt to take things they were throwing out and smuggle them to his room to keep, so devoted was he to the ancestral patriarch and matriarch of the house.

He was furious when he learned that the painting of Lady Black was removed from the main hall. He screamed and shouted at Faith for her part in its removal…until Faith grabbed him by his throat, slammed him against the wall and held her knife within a hair's breadth of his face, saying that she's skin him slowly and painfully he if he ever came near her or Harry again. And if she caught him going behind and taking the things they were throwing out, she cut his fingers, ears, and nose off, grind it into sandwich spread and make him eat it.

He wasn't seen again the rest of the day.

Mrs. Weasley kept everyone very busy. Faith was invaluable in combating the giant spiders that had nested in the furniture. Of which, she didn't kill a single one. Ron found it just downright creepy when Faith would reach in, pulling a spider the size of a dinner plate out of the dresser, stroke it gently along its spine and take it to the door to set it free. Molly smiled at the gentility she showed.

During dinner, Molly looked over at Harry. “I've ironed your best clothes for tomorrow morning, Harry. And I want you to wash your hair tonight, too. A good first impression can work wonders.”

Faith snorted. “Yeah, because they're going to be  _so_  worried about his hygiene.” She looked at Molly as the woman eyed her. “We were going to clear you Harry, but as we can see you didn't brush your hair and polish your shoes, that you are obviously guilty. Your wand please.” She then made a snapping motion with her hand. “We can't have unhygienic wizards about. I'm sure you understand.” Her voice was stuffy and badly British.

Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny all giggled at her antics.

“Every little bit helps.” Molly asserted. “Given that you've made it abundantly clear that you'll be going with him I suggest you dress appropriately as well.”

“I already know what I'm wearing.” Faith said. “Given that I'm probably going to have to fight…”

“You are not going to start a brawl in the Ministry.” Molly interrupted.

Faith looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “…a  _Dementor_ ,” She continued. “Just to prove to the Wizengamot that I  _can_  actually hurt one, I'm going to need to be in something flexible and comfortable.”

Molly cleared her throat and nodded. “Sorry. I should have let you finish.” She looked at Sirius. “I take it, it was your idea to have her do so in full view of the court?”

“It was,” He said. “The Wizengamot doesn't believe anything that they don't see with their own eyes.”

Everyone had to give them that much. “How are we getting there?” Harry asked Mrs. Weasley, trying to sound unconcerned.

“Arthur's taking you to work with him,” She said.

Mr. Weasley smiled at them both. “You can wait in my office until it's time for the hearing.”

Harry looked over at Sirius. Mrs. Weasley, however, cut him off. “Professor Dumbledore doesn't think it's a good idea for Sirius to go with you, and I must say I…”

“…think he's  _quite right,_ ” Sirius said through clenched teeth.

“When did Dumbledore tell you that?” Harry asked staring at Sirius.

“He came last night when you were in bed,” Arthur said, simply.

Harry sighed heavily. Faith, on the other hand, looked at Sirius and then to Molly. “I need to leave the house for a while. Is that okay? There's a store a few blocks from here. I need a couple of things.”

Everyone looked at her. Sirius shrugged. “I don't see a problem. As long as you're careful about not being seen.”

“I can sneak out a back window into the alley.”

George and Fred smiled brightly. “We can Apparate you there and back,” Fred said, happily. George was nodding eagerly.

Faith looked at Mrs. Weasley. “It's a short trip. I'll have them pop me outside and we'll walk the rest of the way. I'll make sure they don't do anything stupid.”

Molly shook her head. “No.” She turned to Arthur. “You can take her. I trust you out in the world more than the twins.”

“We promise we won't do anything to cause trouble,” George whined.

“Please, mum?” Fred added his voice to the mix.

“Come on, Mrs. Weasley.” Faith said. “Give them a chance. Trust me, they step out of line one bit, I'll tell you.”

Molly stared at her two sons. She could see they  _desperately_  wanted this. “Fine,” She said, holding up a finger. “But you're to listen to Faith and do as she says. If she tells me that you've been misbehaving, I'll confiscate everything and leave you both in your rooms with nothing but your underpants. No jokes, no gags and no  _fun_.” She threatened.

Given that  _fun_  was all the twins were good at, her last statement hit home. “We'll be good,” George said.

“Cool.” Faith said. “Come on, you two. Time to dress for a trip to the big bad city.”

As they left, Molly groaned and buried her face in her hands. “I just know that this is a bad idea.”

Harry shook his head. “Don't worry, Molly. You've seen how the boys respond to Faith. She'll keep them in line.”

She looked at Harry with a weak smile. “I hope so.”

Faith looked through the twins' clothes and pulled out what looked like a couple pairs of jeans and two fairly plain looking sweatshirts. “Here,” She said, tossing them to the pair. “Put those on.”

“We hate these pants,” Fred said. “They're uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, but they also don't look like you guys are from the eighteen hundreds, either. You'll get less attention that way.” She said.

The boys sighed and changed as Faith waited in the hall. They both stepped out a moment later looking like a pair of typical redhead teenagers. “We look ridiculous.”

“No, you look like normal people.” Faith said. “So how do we do this Apricot thing?”

“Apparate,” George said. He took Faith's hand. “You ready?” She nodded.

Suddenly her world went every which way at once. She felt herself being pressed in from every direction. George's hand twisted away from her and she tightened her grip. Her eyes felt like they were getting pushed into the back of her skull. A moment later, they stood outside the back of the house, in the dingy, trash-strewn alley. Faith staggered and had to brace herself with her hands on her knees. “God, that sucked,” She said, shaking her head.

“You get used to it,” Fred said as he appeared next to them with a loud  _pop_.

She rose and shook her head. “Damn.” She looked up and down the alley to make sure they weren't seen. “Alright, let's go,” She said, heading down the lane. “So, how come you two can use magic all the time, but Harry can't?”

“We're seventeen.” Fred offered. “When you're seventeen, you're no longer considered underage.”

“Then you can use all the magic you want,” George said.

“Yeah, well don't use any out here.” Faith said. They stepped out onto the street and headed for the Walgreens that Faith saw as they whipped past overhead. “Harry told me you guys wanted to open a magical joke shop?”

“That's what we'd like. Right now we're only doing mail order, but as soon as we find premises, we'll be up and running.” George offered.

“What about Diagon Alley?” Faith asked. “Are there any places in there?”

“We've looked a bit. Nothing on the main drag just yet.” Fred said, sadly. “But we've been keeping a weather eye open.”

“Harry's been talking about getting a place in…” Faith stopped and began looking around.

“Why'd you stop?” Fred asked her. He could see she was concentrating on something. “What is it?”

Faith ignored him as she cocked her head, listening. Finally, she broke into a run, heading down the street at a dead sprint.

“Bloody hell, she's fast,” George said. He saw her turn off into an alley. The both of them looked around and noticed that there was no one about. They looked to each other and nodded. In a sharp  _crack_  they were gone, appearing with a similar sound at the mouth of the alley Faith had disappeared in.

Faith was hurtling down the lane toward what looked to be a man and woman struggling. The woman was screaming. The boys broke into a run after her. “What is she doing?” George asked.

Fred shook his head. He had no idea.

Faith snarled and ran full tilt, slamming into the man and carrying him several feet before driving him hard into the ground. “Get her out of here!” Faith screamed.

Fred slid to a stop near the woman. “Are you alright?” He asked her, helping her to remain standing.

“Fred, look,” George said, pointing to her neck. There were two small puncture wounds that looked to be bleeding. He looked to Fred and nodded as he pulled his wand secretly from his pocket.

Fred took hold of her shoulders and began speaking louder, keeping the terrified woman's attention. “You're going to be alright! I promise we won't let anything happen to you! You're safe with us! We'll make sure the bad man doesn't hurt you anymore!”

George, for his part, quietly spoke the incantation of a simple healing spell, closing the wounds on the woman's neck, while waving his wand subtly.

The woman waved Fred's hands away. “I'm only a foot from you. You don't have to shout.” She said, bitterly. She turned to George, who'd just managed to get his wand hidden. “Are you twins or something?” She asked, before stopping to stare at the action at the far end of the alley.

The boys turned to watch. Faith kicked herself to her feet after plowing the man into the ground. He got up quickly and growled at her. Fred and George could see that his face was distended and his eyes were a sickly yellow color.

The woman screamed and ran from the alley. They looked at her leaving and turned back to Faith. She spun on her heel and caught the man across the face with a reverse kick that flipped him into air and back to the ground. She snatched her knife from her back and spun it in her hand.

The man again came back up. He struck at Faith hard, trying to land a right cross. She ducked aside and caught him across the arm with her blade. The limb went flying into the trash. “Bloody hell,” Fred said, shocked. “He must be a…”

The pair looked at each other. “Vampire,” They said, in unison. They then turned back to Faith.

She was taking him apart handily. She hit him with a left hook, staggering him sideways. She then slammed her foot down into the back of his leg. He dropped to his knees. She then took his head with a clean strike of her massive knife. He exploded into dust a heartbeat later. She stopped and leaned her head back, taking a few deep breaths. Then, calmly, she sheathed her blade and came back toward them. “Vampire,” She said, nodding.

“That was bloody brilliant,” George said. “How did you know he was there?”

“I can feel 'em when they're close.” Faith said, as they again began walking. “Nice work with that chick. Good lookin' out.”

Fred was beside himself. “You're amazing. You were so fast. We know you said you were a vampire slayer, but…we didn't expect you to be so…”

“Bloody marvelous at it,” George added. “You didn't look like you even broke a sweat.”

“Didn't.” Faith said. “Guy was a newbie. Probably turned two, three days ago. Had that 'new grave' smell.”

“How old is the oldest vampire you've ever taken on?” Fred asked.

“Not really sure how old he was. A couple thousand years, I think.” Faith said, shrugging. “Had to run his ass through with a four by four support beam.”

“It's said that Voldemort has vampires working with him,” George said.

“Not for long.” Faith said, smiling. She pulled the door of the Walgreens open and looked to the pair. “Your wands stay in your pockets. I don't care if Death Eaters storm the place. No magic in here, you get me?”

They both nodded their heads. “We promise,” Fred said.

Faith eyed them both a second and turned, moving inside. “Stay close to me, and for the love of god, don't touch anything,” She said as she led them along.

“Dad would go insane in here,” Fred said, smiling brightly. “Look at all this.”

Faith kept a careful watch on the pair of boys. They were being fairly well behaved. She picked out a pair of good scissors, a box of blonde hair dye, a shaving kit – complete with razors – and a pair of jeans and shirt, all of Sirius Black's size. “Alright. I've got what I need.” She said, looking to the boys. “Why don't each of you pick something out for your dad?”

They grinned widely and immediately began scouring the store. The store already had Halloween decorations and toys out on the shelves.

Fred decided on a dancing Ferret with a top hat, tuxedo, and cane that sang  _Puttin' On the Ritz_. Faith made sure and grabbed a package of batteries.

George picked up a candy bowl with a zombie hand that moved when anyone reached into it. “Dad will go nuts.”

Faith chuckled and grabbed a few bags of candy for the bowl. “You guys want anything?”

“Only everything!” George said, happily. He and Fred wandered about, excited by everything they saw.

 _Imagine what these guys would think if they saw a Wal-Mart_. Faith thought to herself. She followed them, making sure they kept their magic in its holster. “Here,” She said, grabbing a huge bag of Almond Roca. “You guys like sweets, right?” The both nodded emphatically. “Then you'll love this stuff.” She moved over and grabbed three two liters of coke. “Let's roll.” She paid with her debit card.

As they woman behind the counter handed her the receipt, the twins furrowed their brow. “You didn't give her any money,” Fred said, shocked.

Faith smiled. “Muggles have what are called debit cards. It's…” She realized, to make them understand what it was, she'd have to explain the whole concept of the point of sale system to them. She sighed and did her best to nutshell it. “It's…” She shook her head. “Really hard to explain.” She knew she couldn't explain it the way they needed. “Do you know what a telephone is?”

The pair nodded. “Dad says he has one in his office. It doesn't work, but he has one.”

“It's like using the telephone, but instead of talking, the debit card machines can send information to the bank that my money is kept in. It would be like…” Faith smiled. “It would be like having a…ring or something that you could just hand to a salesman in a store in Diagon Alley. They would then be able to magically communicate with Gringott's and have the Goblins take money out of your vault and send it immediately to the store that you just visited. It all happens immediately and you don't have to carry a huge amount of money around. You just show people the ring and  _poof_! Your goods are paid for.”

Fred and George were stunned. “Muggles can do that?” Fred asked.

Faith laughed at their astonishment. “Yeah. We may not have awesome magic, but we have our own miracles.” She grinned. “Don't even get me started on the internet.”

“What's the internet?” George furrowed his brow.

“Oh, no.” Faith said. “I am not  _even_  gonna try to explain that to you.”

“Why not?” They both whined at the same time.

“Because I am nowhere near smart enough.” Faith said. She saw their crestfallen looks and sighed. “It's like…it's like a massive room filled with a ton of information. Imagine all of the libraries in the world in one room. And to get the information you wanted, all you had to do was say something like…apple pie recipes. Every book that had an apple pie recipe would then zoom toward you at the speed of light and flip open to show you all the recipes you could want.”

“That's incredible.” Fred offered. “I'd love to see that.”

“Well, it's not exactly like that. You can actually access it anywhere in the world.” Faith stopped a moment and set her bags down. “I'll show you.” She dug her phone out of her pocket and powered it on.

“What is that?” George asked.

“It's a cellular phone.” Faith said. “It's like a telephone only it doesn't have to be connected to a house.” She opened her internet and brought up Google. She looked at the pair. “What's something you guys would wanna look up?” Faith asked.

The pair looked at each other, then her. “Voldemort,” They said in unison.

She shrugged and typed it in. She wasn't sure how to spell it, but she gave it her best shot. To all of their surprise, there were quite a few options. “Holy shit.” Faith said, her eyebrows raised. She selected the top page, which was a blog.

She read the posting aloud. “How anyone can not believe this is beyond me. I've been watching them for years. Their youngest boy isn't normal. I don't care what anyone wants to believe. I know his name is Harry. He must be a cousin or step-brother or something. He doesn't look like he belongs to Vernon or Petunia. The owls carry letters to his house at all times of the day, the white owl that flies to and from, the flying car, and now people flying to his house on broomsticks. I watched them arrive and depart last night after the Dursleys seemed to vacate for one reason or another. That's right,  _broomsticks_. I've even heard mention of someone named Vold-something. Voldemort, I believe. Though I can't be sure. I know Dudley goes to Smeltings, I see him every day when I go, but Harry disappears every September and returns in June. I have no idea where he goes. They say he goes off to some delinquent school or other, according to what mum says, but I know better. I've checked the registration for every disciplinary academy in Britain and there is nigh a Harry Potter to be found. So where does he go? That is the question, isn't it? Well, I aim to find out.” Faith looked at the boys. “This was posted on the sixth and it was the last entry.”

Fred and George nodded. “That's when Moody and the advanced guard went to get Harry. They said when they got there, he was already gone. They couldn't tell where he'd vanished off to. It took them another four days to find you both.”

“So the muggle world knows about Voldemort.” Faith said. She bit her lip and nodded. “I gotta risk it,” She said, softly. She dialed a number that she was fairly sure she'd never have called if it weren't important. It was the one man that she didn't have any right calling. But he was also the smartest man she knew.

“Hello?” A sharp British voice answered. Faith was quiet for a long time. Butterflies swirled in her stomach. “Hello? Is there anyone there?”

“Hey, tweed,” She said, closing her eyes and leaning against the wall.

It was his turn to become quiet. “Faith,” Giles said, his voice carefully neutral. “Where are you?”

“Far away and wanting to keep it that way.” Faith returned. “When I think you're all ready to accept it, I'll try and apologize for the shit I pulled.” She was having a hard time trying to keep her voice steady. “Maybe do something to make it right.”

“Are you sorry for what you did?” He asked, his tone a touch bitter.

“Back there and back then?” Faith began. “No,” She said. “But things have changed. I'm …I'm not that girl anymore. Now, I am sorry for what I did. I know there isn't anything I can do to make it right.”

“Never say never, Faith,” Giles said. “Buffy has been turning herself inside out, trying to find you. She's…”

“Pissed as hell at me?” Faith asked.

“To say the least. You really hurt her, Faith. You played with her life. That's not something easily forgotten.”

“I know, tweed.” Faith said, rubbing her face in her hand. “God help me, I know. But I'm trying right now to do something worthwhile. I…I found someone special. Someone that could come to mean a lot, not just to me, but to everyone, if things go the way we expect. And he's someone that makes life worth it again. He makes me wanna be a better person.”

“That's good to hear, Faith. Maybe he can help you keep on the path of right.”

“For him, I'm doing my best. I called because I need your help.”

“You could have always come to me, Faith,” Giles said tenderly. “I wish you'd have realized that.”

“So do I,” She said. “Does the name Voldemort mean anything to you?”

“It sounds familiar,” Giles said. “If memory serves, he was a powerful warlock that attempted to overthrow Britain almost twenty years ago. The Council was up in arms about it.” He was quiet a moment. “You're in London.”

“Don't tell anyone. Please?”

“Who are you? Why are you calling me? Wrong number!” Giles offered, playfully.

“Thanks, tweed.” Faith said, smiling.

“Why are you asking about him…” He stopped talking. “You met someone special. Harry Potter?”

“It is really fuckin' creepy that you put that together. How do you know him?” Faith asked.

“James Potter, his father. He worked with the Watcher's Council from time to time. I've met him on a few instances.” Giles said. “He was said to be a good man. Everyone with an ear toward the supernatural heard what happened in Godric's Hollow. It was said that Voldemort met his end there after his reign of terror. James and Lily Potter were slain and Harry was taken in by if memory serves, the Dumbledore family.”

“Close. He was actually handed over to Petunia Dursley, Lily's sister.” Faith said. “And they…my god, Giles. They treated that kid like shit. They abused the hell out of him.”

“Sounds like you met a kindred spirit,” Giles said, remembering what little Faith had shared of her background. He'd been doing some digging since. Diana had kept extensive notes on Faith's history and her childhood trouble was a matter of public record. Giles had been doing what he could to prepare for this moment. “Voldemort is dead, however.”

“No, tweed. He's not. He didn't die that night. Dumbledore said he was immortal.”

“A vampire?” Giles asked.

“I don't think so. Closer to something the boss – the Mayor was doing.” She had to stop herself. “Like an ascension of some sort.”

Giles heard the slip-up but left it alone. She'd have to tackle that sorrow in her own time. “I can research things on my end. I…I don't have much pull with the Watcher's Council right now, but I will do what I can to help you.”

“I'll give you the number to this phone. I may not be able to answer it, but leave me a voice mail to call you and I'll check in when I can.”

“I'll phone you when I find something,” He said. “It was good to hear from you, Faith.”

“Thanks, Giles.” Faith said, ending the call. “Looks like we got another weapon in our arsenal.”

“Who was that?” Fred asked as they moved on.

“A friend.” Faith said. “And one of the smartest guys I know. I don't want you telling the rest of the Order about him working on this.”

Fred and George both grinned. “It's nice to have secrets that the adults don't know for a change.”

“Just don't go around with that 'I know something you don't know' look. Gonna tip people off.” Faith said. “But if you guys keep it cool, I'll keep you in on it, deal?”

The nodded. “Deal,” They said, together.

They made it back to the house moments later. Arthur, of course, was flabbergasted and happy as a clam with the things the twins got for him. Faith meanwhile approached Sirius. “Come with me,” She said, motioning him to follow.

She disappeared upstairs with him for almost two hours. Finally, she came back down, smiling. “You all are not gonna believe this,” She said, standing with the kitchen door closed. “You ready to have your collective minds blown?”

Everyone nodded, not sure what she was getting on about. She opened the door and stepped aside.

Slowly, emerging from the darkness of the hallway stood a man with narrow, yet strong shoulders, a navy blue pocket t-shirt, jeans and a pair of polished boots. His face was clean shaven, with a full, well-trimmed mustache, pale gold in color with short, business cut blonde hair. He also had a pair of mirrored sunglasses on.

It took everyone in the room several seconds to realize who it was. “Sirius?” Molly asked, astonished beyond belief.

He pulled his sunglasses off. “I'm…sorry,” He said, his voice sounding oddly American. “Do I know you?”

She was taken aback. She looked at Faith. “That  _is_  Sirius, isn't it?”

Faith shrugged. “I don't know, is it?”

“How did you do that?” Tonks asked, getting up to move around the table…and immediately tripping over a chair. Faith was beside her in a second. “Thanks.”

“Hair dye, a change of clothes and a shave.” Faith said, looking at him. “Everyone meet Robert Smith.”

“Pleasure,” He said, not inflecting in the slightest. “Harry,” He said, nodding. “I'll be accompanying you tomorrow.”

Molly furrowed her brow. “You'll be recognized.”

“Yeah, I doubt that.” Faith said. “None of the people in the Ministry will be looking for him. They all think he's in Tibet, remember?”

Molly wanted to argue, but she let it go. She turned to Faith. “Fred and George informed me that you ran into a vampire.” She said her tone sounding as if she wanted to be angry, but was keeping it in check.

“Yeah. He was new.” Faith shrugged. “I smoked him.”

“Vampires are incredibly dangerous,” Molly said. “You should have…”

“What? Run?” Faith asked. “Let that chick to get drained and probably turned?” She shook her head. “I don't think so. You're forgetting, Mrs. Weasley, slaying is what I do. It's who I am. There ain't but one person on the planet that's as good at it as I am and she's over five thousand miles away. I'm not gonna sweat a newbie vampire. And look at it this way. That's one less recruit Moldy-butt has on offer, right?”

Molly just shook her head. “You have got to be the most infuriating daughter anyone has ever had.” She left the room grumbling about impertinent teenagers. Faith just grinned. Both happy that she was able to surprise the elder woman…and at the sudden proclamation of being a part of the family, new though she might be.

She and Harry found their way to bed to get some sleep. They had a busy day tomorrow.

“Come on, Harry.” Faith said, giving him a gentle shake. “Time to wake up.”

He blinked his eyes and looked up at her. She was dressed in dark blue button down shirt, a pair of black slacks and a black blazer. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. “You look… _official_.”

“Mrs. Weasley said to make a good impression.” Faith offered. “It's almost six. You gotta get ready.”

He threw the blankets back and stood, stretching. He pulled on the pair of slacks, a white shirt and a blazer similar to Faith's. “Should I wear a tie?” He asked her.

“I'm not.” Faith said as she quickly made the bed.

Harry nodded and brushed his hair in the mirror. Realizing that it hadn't, didn't and would likely never lay where he wanted it, he abandoned it and dropped the brush onto the dresser. By the time he turned around, Faith had finished with the bed and was gathering their clothes, tossing them into the hamper that Mrs. Weasley had brought in for them.

“Let's go grab some breakfast before we go.” Faith said.

“I'm not very hungry,” Harry said, his voice quiet.

She moved over to him and pulled him in. “You'll be fine.” Faith said. “Look at it this way. If the Wizengamot was as hardcore, iron cast and final as everyone says they are, then they would have just expelled you outright. They're actually bringing you in to speak with you. That means someone or something has them thinking that there's more to it than just you using your magic.” Faith said, looking him in the eyes. “But just to be on the safe side, you should leave your wand here with Mrs. Weasley. Given the protections that are on this place, they'd never be able to find it.”

Harry looked at her and smiled. He'd never even thought of that. Normally he took his wand everywhere with him. But there was a very real chance that they could find against him and he'd have to surrender his wand. If he didn't have it with him, they couldn't destroy it. He didn't say anything, he just stared into her eyes and kissed her.

They stepped into the kitchen and found Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Lupin, and Tonks sitting there almost as though they were waiting for the pair of them. They were all dressed with the exception of Molly, who wore a quilted, purple dressing gown. She leaped to her feet the moment they entered. “Breakfast,” she said as she pulled out her wand and hurried over to

the fire.

“Morning, Harry, Faith.” yawned Tonks. Her hair was blonde and curly this morning. “Sleep all right?”

“Yeah,” said Faith. Harry simply nodded. His stomach was doing cartwheels.

“I've b-b-been up all night,” she said, with another shuddering yawn. “Come and sit down. . . .” She pulled out a chair, knocking over the one beside it in the process.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Molly asked. “Porridge? Muffins? Kippers? Bacon and eggs? Toast?”

“Harry's feeling a little nervous. Best just have a couple pieces of toast for him until everything gets sorted out. I'll have bacon and scrambled eggs if that's cool.” Faith said, taking her seat beside Harry.

“We've come to a decision,” Sirius said. “I'm not going to be accompanying you.”

Faith raised an eyebrow. “Why not?” She wasn't necessarily surprised, but she was curious.

“Because though I might look… _incredibly_ different, there's still the chance that someone could recognize me, slim though it might be.” He sighed. “There's also the possibility of magical detection wards placed on the building.”

Faith and Harry both nodded. It was a legit concern. “That's alright. At least, you can walk around London without being recognized. Most Muggles don't even know who you are.”

“Thanks to you, none of them will,” Sirius said, smiling.

Lupin glanced at Harry and Faith, then to Tonks. “What were you saying about Scrimgeour?” He asked her.

She nodded. “Oh…yeah…well, we need to be a bit more careful. He's been asking Kingsley and me funny questions…”

Faith watched the pair as they talked. Harry, for his part just sat in his chair feeling nervous as could be. Mrs. Weasley placed a couple of pieces of toast and marmalade in front of him. He lifted the toast and took a bite, but it wasn't sitting well on his stomach.

Mrs. Weasley sat on his opposite side and started fussing over him. “It's as flat as it's going to get,” Harry said, looking at her. She stopped and looked at him. She then cast an eye to his hair. She pulled a comb out and began working with it.

“…and I'll have to tell Dumbledore I can't do night duty tomorrow. I'm just t-t-too tired.” Tonks groaned as she yawned again.

“I'll cover for you,” Arthur said, smiling. “I'm okay, I've got a report to finish anyway.” Faith had to admit, for work, he was dressed pretty sharp, all things considered. He had on a pair of pinstriped trousers and an old aviator jacket. He turned from Tonks to Harry. “How are you feeling?”

Harry shrugged. Faith answered for him. “Nervous as a boy about to be tried for Underage Magic Use.”

“Hah!” Tonks belted out. Lupin looked at her and rolled his eyes.

“It'll all be over soon.” Mr. Weasley said reassuringly. “In a few hours' time, you'll be cleared.”

Harry didn't say anything. He looked at Faith and she simply gave him a comforting smile and placed her hand on his arm. Molly gave up on Harry's hair and finished cooking breakfast for Faith. The slayer quickly took the two pieces of toast she'd gotten, placed the bacon and eggs between the bread and started eating it. “Thanks, Mrs. Weasley.”

Molly grinned. “So it's only when you're cross with me that you call me Molly,” She said to the girl.

“Pretty much. Now, I'm being respectful and polite. I tend to lose that when I'm angry.”

“That's alright, child. Couth is usually the first casualty of anger.” Molly said.

Arthur kept talking to Harry. “The hearing's on my floor. In Amelia Bones's office. She's Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and she's the one who'll be questioning you.”

“Amelia Bones is okay, Harry,” said Tonks earnestly. “She's fair. She'll hear you out.”

Harry nodded, still unable to think of anything to say.

“Don't lose your temper.” Sirius offered abruptly. “Be polite and stick to the facts.”

Harry nodded again.

“I wasn't talking to you,” Sirius said, looking directly at Faith. “Remember that you're an outsider in all of this. They'll see you as a Muggle and not fit to listen to. And there can't be any of this slayer attitude. You'll have to keep that in check as much as possible. Departments within the Ministry work with the Watcher's Council.”

Faith immediately looked to Arthur. He simply nodded. “I've heard tell,” He said, shrugging.

Faith looked at Tonks. “What about you. Have you heard of anything?”

“Bits and bobs.” Tonks offered. “Nothing solid. I've only heard of the Watcher's Council vaguely.”

“The law's on your side, Harry,” Lupin said quietly, trying to return the conversation to the topic at hand. “Even underage wizards are allowed to use magic in life-threatening situations.”

Faith nodded. “Being attacked by Dementors definitely qualifies.” Faith then furrowed her brow. “There's just one thing I don't get. The Ministry is saying that Harry did magic in the presence of a muggle. Who are they referring to?”

“I'm not sure,” Arthur said. “Either you or Dudley Dursley. But with Dudley, that doesn't make sense. Petunia Dursley is a squib. Dudley knows all about magic. The Ministry knows that. That would only leave you. If you show up and inform them that you're not exactly a muggle, then they can't try him for that, at the very least.”

Faith nodded. “When they see me pound the ever loving hell out of a Dementor first hand, they'll learn.”

Mr. Weasley checked his watch and rose to his feet. “I think we'll go now. We're a bit early, but I think you'll be better off there than hanging around here.”

Faith got up and pushed her chair in. She offered her fist to Tonks. “Get some sleep, shifty.”

Tonks grinned and bumped it. “I'll try. Good luck, the both of you.”

Harry meanwhile hugged Sirius. “You'll be fine.” The elder wizard said. “See you when you get back.”

“You'll be all right, Harry.” Said Tonks, patting him on the arm.

“Good luck,” said Lupin. “I'm sure it will be fine.”

“And if it's not…” Sirius added grimly. “I'll see to Amelia Bones for you…”

Harry smiled weakly. Mrs. Weasley hugged him and Faith. “You look out for him, dear.”

“I promise, Mrs. Weasley.” She took Harry's hand and followed Arthur as they made their way out into the cold morning air.

“You don't normally walk to work, do you?” Harry asked him, as they set off briskly around the square.

“No, I usually Apparate but obviously, you can't. And I think it's best we arrive in a thoroughly non-magical fashion. It makes a better impression, given what you're being disciplined for.”

Faith saw that Arthur kept his hand in his pocket. She nudged Harry and pointed. “Wand,” Harry said, answering her unspoken question. He was saddened to learn that his wand had to be with him during his trial for registration purposes. The run-down streets were nearly empty of traffic. They made their way to the underground subway station and found if packed to the brim with early morning commuters.

Faith pulled her debit card out and headed over to the ticket booth, given that the automatic ticket machines were out of order. Arthur was beaming. Faith chuckled as she got tickets from the sleepy looking attendant. Five minutes later they boarded the subway, heading to the center of London.

Arthur continuously watched the animated map above the doors. “Four stops…three stops left now…two stops to go…” Faith looked at Harry who was smiling at the amazed wizard's antics.

They stepped off at a station in the very heart of London, almost pushed from the train by a tide of men and women carrying briefcases and dressed to slay the corporate dragon. They rode the escalator up and through a ticket barrier turnstile. Mr. Weasley was astonished by the way the stile snatched his ticket. They emerged onto a wide street that was very much a picture of Corporate Britain. “Where are we?” Mr. Weasley asked for a moment.

“That isn't funny.” Faith said, glaring at him.

“Ah yes…this way.” He then led him down a narrow side road. “Sorry, but I never come by train and it all looks rather different from a muggle perspective. As a matter of fact, I've never even used the visitor's entrance before.”

Faith could see that they moved away from the skyscrapers and began heading toward smaller, less intimidating buildings. They finally reached the destination that Arthur had been looking for, according to him. Faith chuckled. The social worker she worked with from child services back in Boston had an office in a part of town that looked just like this. She could see a sports bar, backed by an overflowing dumpster. “Obviously, sanitation isn't any more important in the heart of London than it is in the ghetto.” Faith offered, shaking her head.

“I expected the Ministry of Magic to be in a more…affluent location.” Harry said, looking about.

“Draws less attention back here.” Faith said, matter of fact. “If you don't know where to look for it, you have no business going.”

Arthur nodded. “Indeed,” He said, pointing to an old red telephone box. “Here we are.” The booth was missing several pieces of the glass and stood alone before a wall layered with graffiti. “After you,” He said, opening the door.

“Shame it isn't blue and say Police on it.” Faith said, snickering. Harry shared in her mirth, but Arthur either didn't get it or didn't hear her. He squeezed in beside Faith and Harry. “This isn't uncomfortable as hell,” She said, off hand. “Wow. It's a rotary.” She said, smiling. “Seriously old school.”

“Wizards don't have phones in their schools,” Arthur said as he lifted the receiver.

“I think it's out of order,” Harry said, looking at the ancient apparatus. It hung crooked, as though someone had tried to tear it free of the wall.

“No, no, I'm sure it's fine.” Mr. Weasley, returned, holding the receiver above his head and peering at the dial. “Let me see now.” He began dialing. “Six, two, four…another four, and another two.”

“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.” A female voice asked from what seemed like the inside of the box itself.

“Er…” Arthur wasn't entirely sure if he needed to speak into the receiver. He nodded and lifted it to his mouth. “Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, here to escort Harry Potter and guest to attend a disciplinary hearing…”

“Thank you,” She said. “Visitors, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes.”

Amid a click and a rattle, two square silver badges appeared in the coin return. One read 'Harry Potter; Disciplinary Hearing', the second read 'Guest'.

Harry grabbed them and handed the other to Faith, before taking and pinning his to the front of his blazer. Faith did likewise.

“Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.” The box vibrated and began lowering into the ground. There was a dull grinding noise as the box slid down into the earth. Stone and pavement rose up around them.

Faith smiled at it. “Cool.” After several seconds, they were shrouded in golden light so bright, that they had to close their eyes.

“The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day.” The woman's voice offered.

Suddenly the door popped open. Faith, Harry, and Arthur stumbled out. Faith straightened and looked about. “Holy shit,” She said, in abject astonishment. Harry was just standing there with his mouth hanging open.

Before them stretched an enormous and resplendent hall with rich dark hardwood floors polished to a high mirror shine. A bright peacock-blue ceiling greeted them from overhead and was inlaid with golden symbols and runes that were ever changing. The walls were a dark wood, similar to the floors with elaborate hearths at regular intervals. Every few seconds, a wizard or witch would step out of the fireplaces on the left accompanied by a  _whoosh_ sound. On the right, people were lining up only to step into the fireplace and vanish with the same noise. “What is that?” She asked, pointing.

“That's the Floo network.” Harry offered, proud that he knew something. “You can magically travel between locations.”

“Kinda like…teleporters.” Faith said.

Harry nodded. “Good a description as any.” He said, shrugging.

Faith continued gawking about. Halfway down the hall was a large glorious fountain. A group of golden statues, nearly twice the size of normal person stood in the middle of a circular pool.

“This way.” Mr. Weasley said as they joined the throng. As they moved through the people, Faith and Harry noticed coins in the bottom of the fountain.

“If I'm not expelled from Hogwarts, I'll put in ten Galleons.” Harry said to Faith.

“I hear you.” She returned. She was becoming rather nervous as well. But she, unlike Harry, hid it far better. She knew that her maintaining her calm was helping him deal. She didn't wanna think about how much of a basket case he'd be if she was freaking out.

“Over here.” said Arthur. They stepped out of the stream of Ministry employees toward a desk on their left. A sign hung over it reading 'Security'.

A wizard that looked to Faith as though he had shaved with a rusty soup spoon in vibrant blue robes looked up at them as they approached. He set down his copy of the  _Daily Prophet_.

“I'm escorting visitors.” Arthur said, firmly.

“Step over here.” The man said. His tone sounded as though he had done this a million times and would be doing so many, many more before the day was done. The pair walked closer. He held out a long golden rod, looking for all intents and purposes as a car antenna. He passed it up and down both him and Faith. Faith swallowed as he did so. She was sure that the knife she was carrying would set off all kinds of alarms…but he passed the wand-like device over her and then set it down. “Wand.” He grunted, holding his hand out. Harry surrendered his, but Faith shook her head.

“I um…I don't have a wand.” She said.

“She's a squib.” Arthur offered.

The security wizard gave her a sour look but then turned his attention toward Harry. He dropped the wand onto what looked to be a set of brass scales with only one plate. It vibrated and a piece of narrow parchment shot from a slit at the base. The wizard tore it free and read it aloud. “Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use for four years.” He looked at Harry. “Is that correct?”

“Yes,” said Harry nervously.

“I keep this.” The wizard said, impaling the slip of parchment on a small brass spike. “You get this back.” He thrust the wand at Harry.

“Thank you.” Harry offered with a smile.

“Hang on…” The wizard said slowly, looking at the badge on Harry's lapel and the scar upon his forehead.

“Thank you, Eric.” Arthur said, taking Faith and Harry's hands and moving away and toward the large golden gates.

Once they were away from the desk, Faith leaned in closer to Arthur. “Thanks for the save.”

“You being a squib both explains why you're here and why you don't have a wand.” Arthur said.

“I don't understand why his little…golden thing didn't detect my knife.” Faith said. “I thought for sure he'd have found it.”

“Your knife isn't really considered dangerous to wizards.” Arthur said. “Don't ask me why. Someone with a knife is still fairly dangerous.”

“Especially me.” Faith said. Harry nodded his agreement.

They moved along, toward the elevator. Faith was bewildered by nearly everything. She could see Harry was just as flabbergasted as she was.

Arthur began conversing with a large man carrying a hissing cardboard box. They moved inside the car and were forced to the back. She did listen to the voice that announced what floor they were on. “Level seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club, and Ludicrous Patents Office.” It was the same voice they'd heard in the telephone box. The hallway was unkempt and posters of some sort of sports teams were tacked to the walls. One of the people jostled to get out, carrying an armload of broomsticks. “Level six, Department of Magical Transport, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office, and Apparation Test Center.” Five people got out and walked down the corridor as several paper airplanes soared into the lift, turned and hovered in the air.

Faith pointed at them. “Air mail.” She said, smiling.

“Interdepartmental memos.” Arthur said. “Used to use owls but…”

“Messy operation?” Faith asked.

“Quite.” He returned, nodding.

“Level five, Department of International Magical Cooperation, incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the International Magical Office of Law, and the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats.” Several more people left as did two memos, but many more zoomed in. So many that they blocked out part of the light. Harry was in awe of them as well. “Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau.”

The wizard carrying the hissing box pushed past everyone and left, pursued by a small flock of paper airplanes. The doors rattled shut again. “Level three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Headquarters, and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.”

Everybody stepped out of the car at this point except for Arthur, the pair of them and a witch that was reading a parchment that flowed to the ground. There were still a few memos zipping about above their heads. The doors closed and they were again on the move.

“Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services.”

“This is us.” Mr. Weasley offered. They followed the witch out of the elevator, into a corridor lined with doors. “My office is on the other side of the floor.” Faith and Harry looked at the windows and furrowed their brows.

“Aren't we underground?” Faith asked. “I thought we were.”

“We are.” Arthur said as they moved along. “Those are enchanted windows; Magical Maintenance decides what weather we're getting every day. We had two months of hurricanes last time they were angling for a pay raise…just round here.” They made a corner and walked through a pair of massive oaken doors and came into a cluttered, open area that looked like every call center Faith had ever seen. She was actually glad to see something so familiar. The room was broken up into cubicles, which were buzzing with people chatting and laughing. Memos were zooming about like the skies over World War Two Germany. The sign she'd seen proclaimed this space as the Auror's Headquarters. The cubicles looked as Faith had expected them to. Walls were plastered with wanted posters, family pictures and the wizarding equivalent of motivational posters. She couldn't help but chuckle.

A little farther along, a witch with a patch over her eye was talking over the top of her cubicle wall to Kingsley Shacklebolt. “Morning, Weasley.” Kingsley said carelessly, as they drew nearer. “I've been wanting a word with you, have you got a second?”

Arthur nodded. “Yes, if it really is a second. I'm in rather a hurry.” They were talking to each other as though they hardly knew each other. Faith understood why immediately. Harry moved to say hello, but Faith took his hand and pointed to one of the airplanes flying through the air.

“I wonder what that one says.” She said, doing her best to distract him. She'd been following the conversation this morning and knew that they all had to tread softly. As he looked at her, she cast her eyes to Kingsley and shook her head. Harry gave her nod, telling her he understood.

The huge black man led them to the furthest cubicle. “Oh, Arthur!” He said desperately, without looking at Harry. “Thank goodness. I didn't know what to do for the best, whether to wait here for you or not, I've just sent an owl to your home but you've obviously missed it…an urgent message came ten minutes ago…”

“I know about the regurgitating toilet.” said Mr. Weasley.

“No, no, it's not the toilet, it's the Potter boy's hearing. They've changed the time and venue. It starts at eight o'clock now and it's down in old Courtroom Ten…”

“Down in old…but they told me…Merlin's beard!” Arthur looked at his watch. “Bloody…” He spun to Harry and Faith. “We should have been there five minutes ago.”

“Then let's get going.” Faith said. “Lead the way.”

Arthur veritably ran through the building, with Faith and Harry behind him. He was muttering to himself as they moved.

Finally, after moving down the elevator, Mr. Weasley stumbled to a stop outside a long unused door with an immense iron lock on it. He slumped against the wall, clutching at his chest. “Haven't run like that in years.” He said, thumbing toward the door. “Go on. Get in there.”

“Aren't…aren't you coming with?” Harry asked.

“No, no, I'm not allowed. Good luck!” Arthur smiled at him.

Faith moved to the door and looked back at Harry. “Come on. Let's get this over with.” She turned the heavy iron handle and threw the door open. The pair of them walked side by side into the courtroom.

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

Faith and Harry entered the massive dungeon side by side. To Harry, the room was horribly familiar. He had not only seen it before, he had been here before: This was the place he had visited inside Dumbledore's Pensieve. The place where he had watched the Lestranges sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban.

The walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by torches. Empty benches rose on either side of them, but ahead, in the highest benches of all, were a collection of shadowy figures. They had been talking in low murmuring voices. But as the heavy door slammed, an imposing silence descended over the room.

A male voice so cold that Faith swore she saw mist come from his mouth sounded out. “You're late.”

Faith's throat vibrated with a growl. “That's it.” She said, to herself.

“Sorry.” Harry said, nervously. “I-I didn't know the time had changed.” He didn't hear what Faith had said.

“That is not the Wizengamot's fault,” said the voice. “An owl…”

Faith cut the speaker off, moving forward a step. “Actually, it  _is_  the Wizengamot's fault. You are required, by wizarding law, to provide the accused with a notification of change of venue and, or time a minimum of twenty-four hours prior to the hearing or trial in question.” She shook her head. “You didn't give him one. Your notification was sent less than four hours ago. A clear violation of the statutes set up,  _by you_.”

“Who is this muggle, and what makes her believe she can dictate to the Wizengamot?”

“She is no mere muggle.” Dumbledore said from his place on the side of the room. He stepped out and into the full view of the court. “She was present during the Dementor attack that prompted Harry to use his Patronus Charm in the first place.”

“And on top of that…” Faith began.

“The muggle will be silent. Her words…”

“Interrupt me again, motherfucker.” Faith said, walking up to the bench and glaring up at him. She leaped and gripped the edge of the table before them and lifted herself up. “I swear to god, interrupt me one more fuckin' time.” The edge in her voice actually stunned them all into silence. “You, because of your own stupidity, have undone your own argument.” She dropped from the table and backed up to stand beside Harry, who'd taken his seat in the chair in the middle of the room. “By proceeding with a trial such as this, he cannot legally be found guilty of using underage magic.”

“And what makes you believe that?” One of the female witches asked.

“You've told him as much. You've cleared him of the charges by proceeding with a full trial, instead of a disciplinary hearing.” Faith said, crossing her arms. “I can see you're confused. Let me explain. I'll use small words so you can all keep up. Harry's initial charges were the use of underage magic in the presence of a muggle in a muggle populated area. First off, given that Dudley's mother is a squib, he, therefore, by law isn't considered a muggle for the purposes of magic use. And given that I'm a slayer and recognized by wizarding law, agreed an arcane and somewhat antiquated law to be sure, as not being a muggle. So, Harry, therefore, _couldn't_  have done any magic in front of muggles because there weren't any present. And given that you're proceeding with a full trial as you are, you've agreed that you are recognizing Harry as an adult.” She shook her head. “Again, according to wizard law, an adult  _cannot_  be tried for underage magic use.”

Dumbledore looked at Faith with a look approaching astonishment. When she'd said that she was coming to the trial, he figured she'd end up bound, silenced and left to fume in the corner after making who knows what manner of threats to the Wizengamot as a whole. Aside from a rather rocky start, she was literally using the court's own hubris against them. Everything she said was not only factually accurate but was also well thought out and not at all what he expected from her. “Impressive.” He said, smiling. He turned to the court. “The law is indeed very clear. If you rule against this, then I can, and will take this matter to the Royal Family. Her majesty the queen will be very interested to hear what you are doing, I think.”

Harry watched the realization that they'd all undone their own argument and case by trying to flex their authoritative muscle. All thanks to the girl that stood beside him.

Fudge glared at both Dumbledore and Faith. “There is still the matter of the claim of Dementors in Little Whinging. Such a fabrication…”

“Isn't a fabrication and you know it.” Faith said. “By sitting there and claiming that there was no attack or that you didn't know only proves two things. You're a liar, in which case you should be removed from office immediately for being corrupt, or you're an idiot and don't know what is happening in your own organization, in which case you should be removed immediately from office for being incompetent.” She cocked her head. “Which are you, Fudge? Corrupt or incompetent?”

He stared at her, anger filling his voice. “I'll not have my ability to perform my duties call into question by some like you.”

“You'd rather Dumbledore call it into question?” Faith said. “How about it, big D? You think he's corrupt or incompetent?”

Dumbledore looked at her. He knew immediately what she was doing. He'd tried the same ploy with her. She was trying to anger him. To get him to reveal his true colors. Fudge was a paranoid and petty man. He looked at her and suddenly grinned. “There is a simple and final way of settling the truth of the Dementor presence.” He looked up at the gathered judges. “Veritaserum.”

Fudge immediately waved his hand dismissively. “Harry would no doubt have imbibed the antidote agent beforehand. It would mean nothing.”

“I was not suggesting that you give such to Harry.” He pointed to Faith. “I suggest administering it to her.”

That hushed everyone rapidly. “That's a good idea.” Faith said, moving forward. “I'm game.”

Fudge smiled. “Very well.” He turned and nodded to one of the other individuals on the bench. A few seconds later, Faith was handed a small goblet with water and a bit of liquid floating in it. She sniffed it to make sure it was the same as what she had taken from Snape. She could tell that there was less water in the glass than that night. She shrugged and sucked it down, stifling a burp.

“Ask away.” Faith said, tossing the cup back to the man that handed it to her.

“Did you fully witness the events of that night?” Fudge asked.

“Sure did.” Faith offered, nodding.

“And you can testify to these events under the law?” Amelia Bones asked. She was a gray-haired woman with a monocle.

“I can.” Faith said.

“Tell us what you observed.”

Faith recounted the events as she saw them. The court was shocked and somewhat unbelieving when she informed them that she was able to beat the Dementor nearly to death.

“What you are saying is impossible.” Fudge said, simply. “It physically cannot be done.”

“Don't know what to tell you, hoss.” Faith said to him. “I started swingin' the Dementor started screaming. He tried pulling me off, but I kept hitting him until he managed to get out from under me. Truthfully I know I would have killed him, but he slipped away.”

“She is under Veritaserum.” Percy Weasley said, his tone belying his shock. “She cannot be lying.”

“But it is  _impossible_.” Fudge said. “We know this for a fact. The prisoners of Azkaban attack the Dementors all the time. They can't harm them.”

“Bring one in.” Faith suggested. “Let me throw down with him. I'll show you what I can do to him. I'm sure you guys can all keep him from getting loose.”

The entirety of the Wizengamot peered down their noses at her. “If you are injured or killed by the Dementor, this body accepts no responsibility.” Fudge said, his tone hard.

“And if I kill the son of a bitch, you can't do anything to me for it.” Faith said.

He offered a dismissive chuckle. “Fine. Clear the room. Harry and Dumbledore may sit in the benches.”

“Come Harry.” Dumbledore said, taking him over to be seated beside him.

“I trust you.” Harry said to him, his voice soft. “I don't know why you won't talk to me, but I know it's important and I know you wouldn't do it just to hurt me.”

Dumbledore smiled brightly at him. “Thank you, Harry.”

Faith saw the exchange and nodded. Harry needed to say it and Dumbledore needed to hear it. “Let's do this.”

It didn't take long. The room suddenly grew colder. Faith smiled and began bobbing on her feet. She cracked her knuckles. “This is gonna be fun.”

With a great shrill scream, the form of the Dementor materialized out of nowhere. It came swooping out of the darkness at her. She got into a fighting stance and readied for it. The cloaked figure raced toward her, his bony hands reaching for her.

She took a step at the last moment and jumped into a flying kick. Her booted foot plowed into the Dementor and sent him flying backward several feet.

“Good lord.” One of the witches said, in surprise. “That was physical contact.”

Faith wasn't listening. As the creature reeled, she was on it. She was determined to give a good showing. She gripped the tattered robes and spun, slamming him down onto the stone, hard. She drew back her fist and plunged it into the Dementor's face. A sickening crunch sounded out. The monster's screams suddenly fell silent. The body stopped moving.

Faith backed away and turned toward the Wizengamot. “There you go. One dead Dementor.”

“I don't believe it.” Fudge said, standing to lean forward. “I've seen it with my own eyes, and I still don't believe it.”

“Veritas liberabit vos.” Faith said, grinning.

The Minster looked at her, his frustration at being proven wrong at every single turn plainly written on his face. “Indeed.”

“We done here?” Faith asked, looking at everyone.

“No, we most certainly are not.” Fudge said simply.

Faith looked at him. “Yeah. We are.” She said, moving toward the door. “Come on, Harry. We're leaving.”

Harry immediately stood up and went to follow her.

“This trial is not concluded.” Fudge growled.

Faith whirled on him. “You have no grounds to continue. You have no precedent for conviction. You have eyewitness testimony, under Veritaserum, closely monitored and administered with the full backing of the Wizengamot. You have already recognized Harry as being of age simply by proceeding with a full trial. You know Dementors attacked him and given that the Dementors are  _directly_  under the command and control of the Ministry…” Faith let the words hang.

Finally in the complete silence that greeted these words, the witch to the right of Fudge leaned forward so that Faith saw her for the first time. She thought the woman looked like a huge pale skinned bullfrog. Her face was short and flabby, she had no neck to speak of and had a wide thin mouth. Faith had to watch her chin for a few seconds to see if it would puff out. She had a small black bow on her short curly hair. “The Chair recognizes Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister.” Fudge said, motioning to her.

When the woman spoke, she had a very feminine high pitched voice that made Faith think of chalkboards sliding together. “I'm sure I must have misunderstood you, young lady.” Her voice was almost simpering. But her eyes, large and round, completing her somewhat toady appearance were all stone and ice. “So silly of me. But it sounded for a teensy moment as though you were suggesting that the Ministry of Magic had ordered an attack on this boy!” She gave a silvery laugh. A few other members of the Wizengamot laughed with her, but it was forced as hell.

“Thanks for joining the rest of us.” Faith said. She crossed her arms and stared at all fifty of them in turn. “That's  _exactly_  what I'm saying. I mean…” She grinned at their shock. “That's the  _only_  way if could have happened, am I right?” She began ticking it off on her fingers. “We know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Dementors were there. According to Fudge, here we know that the Dementors –  _all_ Dementors – are under direct Ministry control, and we know they attacked Harry and his cousin.” She put her hands out in inquiry. “How else could it have happened?” When she didn't get an immediate answer, she held up two fingers. “Either A; The Ministry sent the Dementors to assassinate Harry Potter or B; The Ministry has lost control of the Dementors. Which is it?”

Again, they were all stunned into silence. Fudge was desperately trying to find something to say.

“If the Ministry is using its power to  _murder_   _children_ , then I'm sure the wizarding community as a whole is going to wanna know about it. And if the Ministry has lost control of the Dementors, then I'm sure they're gonna wanna know about that, too. The Daily Prophet isn't the only Newspaper in this country. And if I gotta blow the whole wizarding world open to get the story out, I don't mind doing it.”

They all stared at her, furiously. “We can obliviate you.” Fudge snarled.

“Yeah, you can.” Faith said. “But here's the thing.” She pulled her phone out. “Any of you familiar with the Watcher's Council?” She didn't wait for a response. She turned to Dumbledore. “I'm still under the affects of the Veritaserum, right?” He gave her a nod. “Good.” She turned back to the panel. “This is a phone. Muggles use it to communicate with each other over long distances. I used this last night to contact one of the members of the Watcher's Council. He's currently researching Voldemort – who  _is_  back, by the way, just wanted to get that out there…” Everyone paled at that. “And if he contacts me and I know nothing about what's going on, he's going to have questions. This man, when he was younger went by the name of  _Ripper_. It was a nickname he'd  _earned_. Trust me when I tell you that you do not want this man pissed off at you. He can do magic that would make what you all can accomplish seem like child's play.” She shook her head. “And he doesn't need a fancy stick to do it. He checks in with me often. He doesn't hear what he wants to hear and he'll get the entirety of the Watcher's Council breathing down your neck. And I know for a fact you all ain't ready for that shit.” She put her phone in her pocket. “Now Harry, Dumbledore and I are leaving. This trial is over. You aren't coming after Harry again, you aren't coming after Dumbledore and you definitely ain't coming after me again. And the smear campaign you've been running in the media is done.” She looked around at them. “Am I clear?”

“You don't dictate…” Fudge began.

“ _Am I clear_?” Faith snapped back. “A simple yes will do.”

“Just…out of curiosity.” Percy Weasley, a voice of rationality asked. “What if we say no?”

“There are fifty of you.” Faith said. She slowly pulled the large knife from her back and held it up. “In the dark, when you're all alone in the night asleep in your bed, what do you think your wand is going to do against this?” She asked. “Keep in mind, I can see Dementors. I can see the Leakey Cauldron. I can see past all the wards and muggle-prevention spells you've got. I've got a few artifacts of my own that make me undetectable to people like you. I could sneak into your house and open every one of you from here…to here.” She dragged the knife along her throat from ear to ear. “And you'd never know until you tried drawing breath…and realized you couldn't. Something to think about.” She put the knife away and left the room with Harry.

Dumbledore stopped and looked to the Wizengamot as a whole. Two of them were actually vomiting. “She is from a far more dangerous and brutal world than we are. She has dealt with horrors that we can't begin to imagine. She was under the affects of Veritaserum. You know everything she said was pure truth. She will act on her threats. Think on that, very, very carefully, Cornelius.” He left the room without another word.

Faith stopped outside and leaned against the wall, shaking. Arthur was there to meet her. “Well?”

“I just threatened to sneak into the house of fifty wizards and cut their throats.” Faith said. “What was I thinking?”

Arthur could tell she was shaken. He actually pulled her in and hugged her. She melted into it. “You did what you had to do to protect the boy you love.” He said to her. Faith looked up at him. “You do, Faith. Whether you know it or not, believe it or not.”

Faith turned to look at Harry who was a few paces away talking to Dumbledore. “I think I do.” She said to him.

He immediately pulled Faith aside as Dumbledore did Harry. The court members moved out of the room. Faith's face hardened into a skull-like smile. She eyed every one of the members that dared look at her. To Umbridge, she gave a small pouting kiss. “See you later.” She mouthed to the woman. She hurried away from the girl.

“Merlin's beard. You were tried by the full court?” Arthur asked.

“Yep.” Faith said. “And because of that, they undid their own case.”

Arthur furrowed a brow, curious. Harry was beaming. “Oh, Arthur, you should have seen her.” He said, throwing his arms about Faith. “She was so smart. She took their case apart so fast. Then she killed a Dementor with her bare hands. And telling the ministry that she could sneak into her their houses at night while they slept…” He was chatting happily.

“They used Veritaserum.” Dumbledore said. “Of course, none of them could know that Faith is immune to its affects.”

Faith, Harry, and Arthur all looked at him. “How did you know?” Faith asked him. She wasn't necessarily surprised, but she was curious.

“Call it intuition.” He said.

Arthur looked at her, suddenly worried. “Then…you weren't being compelled to tell the truth the other night?”

“I was telling the truth, but I didn't have to.” Faith said. “I just drank it to make you all feel better. I'm here to help. I wanna take Voldemort out just as much as you do.”

Dumbledore stepped up and placed his hand on Faith's shoulder. “I do have to ask you …you said you contacted a friend from the Watcher's Council.”

“His name is Rupert Giles. He was my Watcher when I was in Sunnydale.” She turned to Harry. “He said he knew your dad. Met him on a couple of occasions. James worked with the Watcher's Council a few times.” She returned to Dumbledore. “I'm sorry I should have told you. But I didn't wanna get anyone's hopes up. He's doing some independent research on Voldemort.”

Dumbledore regarded her a moment and nodded. “I have a favor to ask of you.” She gave him a nod. “Would you be willing to be an instructor at Hogwarts?”

“Come again?” Faith asked. “Be a teacher?

“Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Dumbledore asked. “Defeating dark wizards seems something you would be very adept at.”

Faith stared at him and was about to tell him he was nuts, but the more she thought about it, the more she believed that she knew quite a bit that could be passed on. Yes, she was a slayer and that's where most of her ability came from, but there was a lot to be said for tactics and training. Having the right  _mindset_  for combat was just as important and how much strength you could put behind a punch. “Okay.” She said, nodding. “I'm your girl.”

“Just…to let you know. Everyone believes that the position is cursed. Every teacher in the position has been either killed or somehow forced to leave the job.” Dumbledore offered.

“Whatever.” Faith said. “If it is true, then I'll see what I can do to break it.”

“I'm glad to hear that.” Dumbledore said. “I've got to go. You're free to create your own lesson plans and what have you.”

“Remus Lupin was the instructor for our third year. You can get together with him.” Harry offered, happily.

Dumbledore patted her and Harry's shoulder and moved off. “Come on.” Arthur said. “I'll get you two home so you can tell everyone the good news.” He looked at Faith. “Just so you know, Professor Snape is going to be rather cross. He wanted the Defense position for a long time.”

“Why not give it to him?” Faith asked.

“Dumbledore believes in the curse.” Arthur said. “And Snape is one of the best teachers at Hogwarts. He knows potions better than anyone.”

“So…what? I'm expendable?” Faith asked him.

“No.” Harry said. “I think Dumbledore believes you're the one person that can survive the position and return next year.” She pulled her in for a hug. “You're too stubborn not to.”

“Man  _does_  know me.” Faith said, happily.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter tackles something that I always felt to be a bit...tacked on. Well, two things, actually. First, is Percy Weasley and his folks. I thought the whole them having a strained relationship just to be pointless. It was drama for drama's sake and didn't seem all that convincing to me.  
> Second, is Ron being a prefect. Not a snowballs chance in hell. His grades weren't nearly good enough, he got in trouble way too much and just seemed...no. Just no. Hermione, yes. That makes a kind of sense. But Ron? Hell no.  
> So, as always, enjoy.

 

Faith and Harry followed along behind Arthur as he led them from the courtroom to the ninth level. “I'm going to take you straight back so you can tell the others the good news,” He said. “I'll drop you off on the way to that toilet in Bethnal Green. Come on.”

“What will you have to do about the toilet?” Harry asked, grinning. He was happier now. Everything seemed much funnier than usual. It was starting to sink in.  _He was cleared and he was going back to Hogwarts_.

Faith, for her part, was reeling.  _She_ was going to be a  _teacher_. It was a seriously large undertaking for her. She was only seventeen years old and was going to be in charge of students. Some of which were just as old as she was.

“Oh, it's a simple enough anti-jinx.” Offered Arthur as they climbed the stairs. “It's not so much having to repair the damage, it's more the attitude behind the vandalism, Harry. Muggle-baiting might strike some wizards as funny, but it's an expression of something much deeper and nastier. And I for one…” He stopped mid-sentence. They'd just crested the stairs when they saw Cornelius Fudge standing a few paces from them speaking quietly with a man with long, silver-blonde hair and a narrow pointed face. If Faith didn't know better, she'd almost be willing to believe he was a vampire.

The pale man turned at the sound of their footsteps. He stopped talking as well. He looked at Faith and immediately disregarded her, making a grand display of doing so. His face fell to that of Harry. His eyes narrowed as they bore into him. It made Faith immediately on edge. “Well, well, well…Patronus Potter,” said Lucius Malfoy coolly.

“Who's that douche?” Faith asked Harry, quietly.

Harry almost blanched. “That's Lucius Malfoy.” Harry returned, whispering. “He was there when Voldemort returned. He was in the graveyard that night.” She could hear the edge in his voice.

Faith remembered the name. On reflex, she stepped between the pair of them. The last time Harry had seen him from what she'd shared with her, he was looking at Harry through a Death Eater's mask. And he was laughing while Voldemort tortured the boy. Faith thought the man showed incredible balls for even to dare look Harry in the eye. She had to fight everything in her not to cut the man's throat where he stood.

Oblivious to Faith's inner monolog, Lucius addressed him. “The Minister was just telling me about your lucky escape, Potter.”

Faith couldn't hold her tongue. “Don't ever talk to him again. That's the only warning you get.”

“I'm sorry. I wasn't speaking to…” Lucius was taken aback as Faith was suddenly in his face.

“I don't give a flyin' fuck who you were talking to,” She said. “You're talkin' to me now. And you say one more god damn word to him, I'll rip you a new ass.” She looked him in the eye. “Give me an excuse, motherfucker.”

He leaned down into her face. “Oh, I'm so very petrified,” He said.

“Damn right you are.” Faith said, smiling at him. “I can see it your eyes.”

“Can you?” He asked her. “I don't think so.” He again looked her up and down. “I wouldn't have anything to fear from someone like you.”

“I'd say tell that to the Dementor I just tangled with.” Faith was grinning like a skull. “But you can't. He's dead.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “You  _killed_  a Dementor?”

“With my bare hands.” Faith said. “Just ask him.” She indicated to Fudge.

“Is this true, Minister?” Malfoy was disbelieving.

“So it appeared,” Fudge said, looking uncomfortable at the topic of conversation.

“I see,” Malfoy said, returning his attention to Faith. “If I wish to address young Harry, then I will do so.” He leaned down and looked Faith directly in the eyes. “And there will be nothing you can do about it.”

“You willing to bet your life on that?” Faith asked him.

“Are you?” He asked, ominously.

“Yes.” Faith said to him. “Because I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I could drop you before you ever got your wand out. Unlike you, I don't  _need_ a funny little stick to be deadly.”

“You have a lot of confidence…for a muggle,” Lucius said, scathing.

“And for an inbred, stick waving effeminate ass-hat, so do you.” Faith said. “Oh, yeah. Harry's told me about how  _pro-pureblood_  you are.” She grinned. “And you got a lot of secrets. And slowly but surely they'll all come out. You know why? Because when you reduce the family tree to a family bush, can't hide as much under it.”

“What do you know of pureblood wizarding families?” Malfoy said. “I'm betting your lineage…”

“I wouldn't really know where my lineage comes from.” Faith said. “Who my parents and grandparents were doesn't have any bearing on who I am. I'm me. I'm not them.”

“Imagine my surprise,” Malfoy said. “I come from only the noblest stock of Europe.”

“And here you are, losing a verbal jousting match to a teenage girl. How sad for you.” Faith said. “Come on, Harry. We're outta here. Being around this much stupid is giving me a headache.” She violently shoved Malfoy aside, sending him careening into the wall.

“I want that girl arrested!” Lucius snapped indignantly. “She assaulted me.”

Fudge watched her as she continued to walk on. There was something about her that made him shudder. “Let it go, Malfoy,” Fudge said, sternly. “Let us adjourn to my office.”

“I will have her head,” Lucius said, growling. “Mark me, Cornelius.”

Harry whirled on the Malfoy patriarch. “Someone already has,” He shouted. “Voldemort owns you. You're just as much a piece of property to him as his wand.” Harry grinned. “But far less useful.” This caused both the Minister and Lucius to blanch for, but a moment.

Faith laughed. “Hell yeah,” She said, hugging Harry. “You wouldn't happen to know his address, would you?”

“You can bet his house if warded beyond belief,” Arthur said. “The man has some very powerful friends and just as many powerful enemies.”

Faith thought a moment. “His son goes to Hogwarts, right?”

Harry looked at her. “Yeah, he does.” He chuckled. “Oh, you're rotten.”

“That's gonna be fun.” Faith said, grinning widely.

Arthur Weasley had to admit that he didn't like her tone of voice one bit.

Over the days that followed, the cleanup of the house was still underway. Faith did a lot of heavy lifting but spent a majority of her time speaking with Remus Lupin regarding the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.

Upon hearing the news that Dumbledore had selected her, there were a lot of mixed emotions regarding the choice. Tonks, Lupin, and Shacklebolt all believed it a wonderful idea. Arthur Weasley and Sirius Black believed that she was better than, at the very least, a majority of the teachers that had been hired in recent years.

Severus Snape was downright furious. He'd refused to speak with her at all when he came to the house, going so far as to ignore her existence. Faith found that she really didn't care.

The students all found it to be fantastic news. None of them seemed to care that Faith had no magical background to speak of.

But it was Molly Weasley that voiced the largest and most prominent argument against her being appointed.

After one of the many meetings of the Order, with Faith sitting directly across the table from her, she broached the subject to Dumbledore. It was just the three of them in the room.

“I think you're making a critical error appointing Faith as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.” Molly said her tone cold and angered.

“What makes you believe that?” Dumbledore asked. Faith was eager to hear what he had to say on the matter. She felt she had a lot she could teach, but not having any magical acumen did weigh on her. And as Molly got started, she learned that she wasn't the only one that felt that way.

“She's not a witch.” Molly fired off. “She's barely anything more than a muggle.” She looked to Faith. “This is no offense meant to you, dear. You're quite capable at what you do, I'm sure. But teaching magic to students is a difficult job. And given that you can't use any magic, I feel that the children would be lacking in their education.”

“D? Can I field this one?” Faith asked him. “Let me sell myself.”

He motioned for her to do so.

She looked at Molly. “You're right.” Faith said to her. “You're absolutely right. I don't know the first thing about casting spells the way you guys do it. I don't know how to throw the leg locker curse or the…hell I don't even know what ninety percent of them are even called. I know one of them sounds like abracadabra and is, like, the worst thing you can cast. Beyond that?” She shook her head. “I don't know shit.” She stood up. “But there are things that I  _can_ teach your kids. I can teach them how to _think_  when they're in a fight. I can teach them how to move, I can teach them how to handle themselves when they find themselves wandless. I can prepare them for the worst-case scenarios. I can even teach them how to defend themselves against magic itself.”

“How can you do that?” Molly asked her. “You don't know how to cast magic.”

“You're right. I don't.” She pushed the table aside to give them room. “Pull out your wand. Cast something at me.”

Molly looked at her a moment then brought a few simple hexes to mind. “You sure?”

Faith nodded. “Go for it.”

Molly began whinging spells at Faith left and right. But try as she might, she couldn't hit the girl with anything. Faith moved closer and closer as she dipped, ducked, flipped and rolled out of the way of everything that the elder woman tried to nail her with. Eventually, Faith was on her feet and tore the wand from Molly's hand. It was a fast and furious display…

And it told Molly quite a bit about Faith. “See? When you get right down to it, it isn't about how much magic you can use. It's about having to make contact with it. Right now, all of the students –  _all of them_  – are so reliant on magic, that they don't understand their potential. They don't understand that relying on  _just_  magic is a limitation that they don't need. Now, granted ain't none of these kids ever gonna be as fast and nimble as me, but that doesn't mean they can't improve on what they've got.” She handed the woman back her wand. “They're going to be learning spells from everyone at the school. Flitwick, McGonagall…they don't need someone else teaching them a more magic. They'll learn all of that. They need someone to teach them how to defend themselves from it. How to recognize when they're in danger and know how to react to it.  _That's_  what I can teach them. I can also teach them about slayers, vampires, demons and monsters of nearly every description and a lot of other things.” She could see the conflict in Molly's eyes. “Give me the chance and I promise you you'll be perfectly satisfied with what your children learn.”

Molly looked at Dumbledore who was simply giving her wizened smile. “Alright.” The woman said, giving Faith a hug. “You can't be any worse than Quirrell.”

“I dare say no one could be that bad.” Dumbledore said.

“I've been talking with Lupin about lesson plans. He knows his shit.”

“He was actually a very good instructor.” Molly admitted. “You should keep in contact with him through the year. He can help you quite a bit.”

“And if I do need someone to demonstrate spells, I've got Fred and George for that.” Faith said. “Those boys know their stuff. And they didn't back off at all when I was tangling with that vampire.”

“I'm not sure whether to be proud of them or cross with you about that.” Molly offered, honestly.

“I couldn't just let her get eaten. And to be honest, it wasn't like the twins were in any real danger. They could have apricotted away.”

Both Molly and Dumbledore chuckled. “You mean they could have apparated away.” The old wizard said, humorously.

“Right, that.” Faith said. “I'll teach your kids what they need to know, don't worry.”

“I trust that you'll do your best for our children.” Molly said. “It's going to be difficult enough without me being a sour goose about it.”

“God, I love you.” Faith said, hugging the woman. “You're so damn  _wholesome_.”

Molly smiled as she hugged the girl. In the short time she'd known Faith, she came to love how  _genuine_  the girl was. She was opinionated, loud, crass, crude and boisterous. But at the same time, she was never sparing with a kind word, always was eager to help and was respectful of those around her. She was much like Molly when she was younger. Faith, in short, was almost another daughter to the woman.

And Faith had already taken to calling Ginny 'sis'. Faith had also bequeathed her worn but fashionable leather jacket to the girl. Harry went out with Sirius the following day and purchased her another.

Letters arrived from Hogwarts with some very unexpected news. Hermione had been made a prefect. Faith and Harry both congratulated her, voicing that they were extremely happy for her. Faith wasn't entirely sure what a prefect was until Harry explained it to her. They had a small celebration to pep the kids up for going back to school.

As the night wore on, Faith chatted with Lupin, Sirius, and Moody. The three of them were invaluable in preparing her for her new position at the school. “The position is cursed, you know.” Moody said, his gruff tone deadly serious.

Faith nodded. “I know.” She said. “But here's the sticks.” She shook her head. “I don't give a damn. These kids need training. Something that's gonna give 'em an edge over the wizards they're gonna be facing. Something Moldy-butt and the rest of his hench-goons haven't seen. When the throwdown comes, because we all know it's a matter of time, it's not gonna be so one sided. Maybe, just maybe I can get these kids prepared for it.”

The three elder men looked at her with a bit of a smile. “You sound like you're ready.” Sirius offered, supportively. Moody and Lupin added their smiles to his.

Faith caught a glimpse of Harry and saw his melancholy. “Excuse me for a second, fellas.” She said, moving off and heading toward Harry. She slid up beside him and bumped his hip. “Hey you.”

He looked at her and grinned weakly at her. “Hello.”

“Somethin' gotcha down?” Faith asked him. “This is supposed to be a party.”

He sighed and shook his head. “It's nothing.” He said, softly. He took another sip of his butterbeer.

“That sounded heartfelt. Wanna try again?” She asked him. “What's wrong, Harry?”

“I've just…why not me?” He asked, suddenly. “Why wasn't I chosen to be a prefect?”

Faith just stared at him. “Seriously? That's what's got you twisted up?”

Harry sighed and nodded. “I know it seems silly, but…it's bothering me.”

“I can tell you if you wanna know.” Faith said. “I mean I didn't talk to big D about it or anything, but it's pretty obvious if you look at it.”

“How so?” He asked her, not understanding. He'd more than proven he had what it took.

“Because you've got enough on your plate without having to worry about what everyone else is doing. You ain't had a normal year at Hogwarts yet. You're distracted and Dumbledore knows that. So does everyone else. You need to concentrate on you and what you should be doing. You'll need to focus. Hermione can multi-task like a fiend from what I've been told.”

“I can't argue her being one. That makes sense, but…”

“For Christ's sake, you're Harry fucking Potter. That isn't enough for you? It took a veritable army of powerful wizards to do what you've been doing pretty much since you were eleven years old.” She edged a little closer to him. “Because of who you are, well…Whitesnake said it best;  _I know what it means to walk along the lonely street of dreams_.”

He stared into her eyes. “As long as you're going to be with me, that's all that matters.” He gave her a soft smile. He once again became lost in her eyes. The whiskey colored orbs always made his heart skip a beat. To him, she was the most beautiful girl in the world. He saw Faith stop and cock her ear as if she was listening for something.

“What's the matter?” Harry asked her. He knew she could hear far better than just about anyone in the house with the exception of possibly Lupin.

“Molly is in the drawing room crying.” Faith said. “She keeps saying  _ridiculous_  for some reason.”

Harry shook his head. “She's dealing with a boggart.”

“Shapeshifter.” Faith said, looking at him, getting a nod in return. “Sounds like it isn't going well.” She took Harry's hand. “Come on. Let's go help her out.” The pair left the room, heading out and into the drawing room. “Mrs. Weasley? You alright in here?” She asked, looking around. She could see Molly cowering against the dark wall, her wand in her hand. She was veritably vibrating with sobs.

Faith and Harry saw a patch of carpet in the moonlight. Sprawled on the dusty floor, dead as Dickens, was Ron. “What the fuck?” Faith asked, moving over to the body.

Harry, for his part, felt all of the air leave his lungs. An icy fist gripped him, leaving him cold and lifeless. Ron. Dead. He immediately shook his head. He knew that couldn't be true. Ron was downstairs enjoying the party. Last he saw, the boy was talking with his three brothers about going back to school. Bill was ribbing him good-naturedly. “Mrs. Weasley?” Harry croaked.

“R-r-riddikulus!” Mrs. Weasley sobbed, pointing her shaking wand at Ron's body.

A sharp  _crack_  rent the air. Faith fell backward as the body immediately shifted to become the still form of Bill Weasley. Molly was sobbing now, even harder.

“What the hell is going on, Harry?” Faith asked, now becoming angered.

“R-riddikulus!” Molly stammered.

Another  _crack_ sounded out. Arthur Weasley's body replaced Bill's. His glasses were askew and he had blood trickling from his forehead, running down his face. “Christ.” Faith said, shaking her head.

“No!” Mrs. Weasley moaned piteously. “No…riddikulus! Riddikulus! RIDDIKULUS!”

The bodies changed with a rapid series of  _cracks._  First the twins, both dead, then Percy, then Harry…

Faith had had enough. She whipped her blade free and slammed it down into the boggart's head. The body seemed almost to deflate before shriveling into a small silvery globe.

Harry immediately pulled his wand. “Riddikulus!” He snapped. The ball of light was blasted away in a heartbeat.

Faith sheathed her blade and moved over to the tearful woman. “Molly,” Faith said, taking her shoulders. Molly looked into her eyes and immediately collapsed against her, sobbing her heart out on Faith's shoulder.

“It was just a boggart.” Harry said, trying to comfort her. “Just a stupid boggart.”

“I see them d-d-dead all the time!” She was sobbing heavily. “All the t-t-time! I d-d-dream about it…”

Faith took hold of the sides of Molly's head. “Molly, listen to me.” She said, sternly. “Do you love your family?” Molly wiped her eyes and nodded, trying to bite back her tears. “Then they won't die. It's that goddamn simple. I've known you all of what, three weeks? In that time, you've pretty much adopted me. You see me as a daughter. You know how much that means to me?” She shook her head. “I never had a family that gave a shit before. My last name might as well be Weasley for all the love you carry right here for me.” Faith tapped the woman's chest. She then put her hands under Molly's arms and lifted her effortlessly from the ground. Molly was by far not a petite woman. “That also means I protect my family.” She set her down. “And with both me andyou looking out for our family? There isn't a snowball's chance in hell that anyone is gonna screw with that.” She softened her expression. “I ain't gonna let nothing happen to any of you.” Faith said to her. “That's a promise.”

Molly gave a warm smile to the girl. “I know, Faith.”

“No more crying now.” Faith said to her. “Would you do me a favor?” Molly nodded. “I want you to go back into the kitchen, grab your husband and take him to your room and let him hold you because that's what you desperately need right now. Talk to him about anything and everything. Whatever's bothering you.” Molly just stared at her. “Can you do that for me? Just tell him you love him and hell, ball his brains out if that's what he wants. Just spend the night with him. Remember what it was that made you fall in love with him…”

“His car.” Molly said, grinning.

“If that's true then you had really bad taste in cars.” Faith said. “Man owned a Ford Anglia.”

“Not when I first met him. He had a 1960 Aston Martin DB 4.”

“No shit?” Faith said. “That's a sharp little ride. I'd be impressed.”

“He looked quite dashing in it, to be honest.” Molly said, her voice now whimsical.

“Go recapture that.” Faith said. “Go on.” She gently nudged Molly toward the door. The woman smiled, hugged her and made her way out of the drawing room.

Faith watched her go and followed her. “I gotta talk to the twins.”

“What about?” Harry asked, in step beside her.

“Plausible deniability.” Faith said. “I'll tell you later.” She entered the kitchen behind Molly. She smiled when she saw the woman move over to Arthur and whisper in his ear. His eyes went wide and he looked at her. The Weasley matriarch turned on her heel and walked out of the kitchen. Faith was fairly certain the woman was popping it just a bit. “You go, Mrs. Weasley.” She said quietly. Arthur dropped the cup he was carrying on the edge of the table, spilling its contents as he rushed past, following his wife.

Faith left Harry and moved over to Fred and George. “I need to talk to you two.” She said, motioning them to follow her. She led them out of the kitchen and into the drawing room. “You two can ap…apparate.” They both nodded, immediately smiling. “Do either of you know where Percy lives?”

They both nodded. “He lives near the Ministry in a flat.” Fred said.

“Does he live alone?” Faith asked.

“As far as we know.” George offered.

“Take me there.” Faith said. “Time for him to bury the hatchet. One way or another.”

Fred and George again grinned widely. They both took her hands. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. The sensation was the same as last time.

She opened her eyes to see that they were standing outside Percy's flat. “Either of you know a spell to unlock a door?”

Fred stepped forward. “Alohomora.” The lock clicked immediately.

“Thanks.” She said, pushing the door open. It was dark but lavishly furnished. She turned to the twins. “You two stay out here.”

“What if he attacks you?” George asked.

“That's a chance I'm willing to take.” She said to him. “I'll be careful.” She moved to the bedroom door and quietly entered. She could see the still form of Percy Weasley asleep in his bed. She closed the door and moved over to the bedside table. She took the wand that rested close by the boy and kept a hold on it. She reached down and gently shook him. “Percy? We've gotta talk.”

He came awake, blinking rapidly in the dark. “Who is it? Who's there?” He asked.

Faith reached over and turned on the lamp. “You remember me from the trial?”

Percy quickly reached over and grabbed for his wand…to find it missing. Faith shook her head. “Calm down.” She said, showing him that she had it. “I just didn't want you flinging something nasty at me until we had a chance to talk.”

“What are you doing here? How did you get in here?” He asked, suddenly furious.

“Don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you or anything. I came to talk.” She sat on the edge of his bed.

He stared at her, then scooted back to rest against the wall. “Alright. Say what you came to say.”

“Why aren't you speaking to your parents?” She asked.

He wanted desperately to tell her that it was none of her business, but he knew she wouldn't accept that and would push to learn what she wanted to know. “My father believes that I was promoted to Junior Assistant to the Minister to spy on him and Dumbledore.” Percy said, bitterness creeping into his tone. “He can't accept that maybe, just maybe, I attained the position on my own merit.”

Faith had to admit, she could see the boy's frustration at that. Being told you got to where you are because your boss is a scumbag would have pissed her off, too. Granted, she thought Fudge  _was_  a scumbag, but that wasn't the point. “I can see that ticking you off. Why would he believe that?”

“Because dad is off his rocker.” Percy said. “He's paranoid.”

“You don't believe Voldemort is back, do you?” Faith asked him.

Percy shook his head. “No, I don't.”

“And that's enough for you to just abandon the man and woman that birthed you? Raised you and did everything in their power to allow you to attend Hogwarts?” Faith said, cocking her head. “That seem right to you?”

Percy stared at her. “Is that why you came? To try and get me to make up with my family?”

Faith nodded. “Yeah. And you know what? Before I leave here, that's exactly what you're going to do. Question is what do I have to do to make it happen.”

He shook his head. “I won't…”

“You  _will_.” Faith interrupted him. “You will because you love your mother. You will because you love your father, your brothers and your sister. You may be a Ministry stooge now, but you were a Weasley long before then. And when the shit hits the fan, whether you believe Voldemort is back or not, means two things. Jack and shit. And Jack took a train. So get your ass up, get dressed. We're going to mend fences.”

“I'm not going anywhere.” Percy said angrily.

“So you hate your family?” Faith asked, her tone icy cold. “You don't give a shit about your brothers and sister? Is that what you're saying? Are you so goddamn selfish that you don't care that your mother cries herself to sleep because of you?” She moved over and loomed over him. “Let me explain something to you.” She crossed her arms. “Molly Weasley has come to mean a great deal to me. She's accepted me as a daughter in a very short period of time. Woman wears her heart on her sleeve, I've noticed. But at the same time, she's a good woman and loves her family. And what you're doing right now, how you're acting is taking a shit all over that love.” She narrowed her eyes. “You  _owe_  her to put this shit behind all of you.”

“I don't want to.”

“Don't matter.” Faith said. “You need to do it because you love your parents. It's that damn simple. You need to stop thinking of yourself and start thinking of them. They did that for you your whole life. Time's come to give a little back. So they pissed you off. So what? Name me one kid on the planet who's parents don't piss them off from time to time. My mom used to piss me off all the damn time. But I can guarantee you if she weren't dead, I'd still be talking to her. I'd still love her. She wouldn't stop being my mom.” She reached down and lifted him from the bed by the front of his nightshirt. “You're a fucking Weasley. Start acting like it. Right now you seem more like a goddamn Malfoy.”

Of all of the things, Faith could have said,  _that_  really snuck through. Percy knew Draco Malfoy personally and had met Lucius Malfoy on several occasions. And he wasn't a fan of either. Both seemed very much to carry an air of entitlement. Neither had to work for what they had – and they had quite a bit. They believed that they were superior to anyone and everyone. They had attitudes that what they said was right and anyone who disagreed was wrong.

And with a sudden sad and sour realization…he was acting very much the same way to his parents. But what was made worse was that he knew, no matter how cross Draco became with his father, he would never simply abandon him, having no contact and ignoring his very existence when they passed each other in the halls. “I'll get dressed.” Percy said, his voice filled with defeat. He began crying as he donned his clothing.

Faith moved to the door and opened it. “Go back and get your mother and father to meet me at King's Cross Station. Near the platform to Hogwarts.” Faith said. “Do whatever you have to do, but don't tell them why. Just tell them it's important.”

The pair nodded and apparated away with a loud  _crack_.

“Who was that?” Percy asked, curiously.

“The twins.” Faith said. “They can…what is it? Apparate.”

“You brought Fred and George here?” Percy rushed out into his living room. He checked over everything, making certain that everything was in order. “I don't trust either of them as far as I can kick them.”

Faith grinned. “I know. That's gonna make things interesting this year.”

Percy sighed and looked at her. “I'm still very much loyal to the Minister.”

“That's cool. But let me ask you one question.” She said, handing his wand back to him. “If you were to learn that Voldemort is back…” She lifted a hand to forestall him. “I know you don't buy it and I'm not asking you to. This is just a hypothetical.  _If_  you were to learn he was back, what would your stance be? Would you support him or would you join your family to put his ass back in the dirt?”

“ _If_ he had returned, I would fight to rid the world of him. I would not join with him.” Percy said.

Faith nodded and patted his shoulder. “That's all you'll ever have to say to me. Just tell your dad and mom that you don't wanna talk about work and Voldemort with them. They're sore subjects and you don't wanna start a fight.” Faith said, shaking her head. “You respect your parent's wishes, they should be willing to do the same.”

He nodded. “I should have done this a long time ago.” He said to her. “You're very smart when you wish to be.”

“I gotta know. You have noticed that Fudge is a bit of a…dumbass, haven't you?”

“He's not the greatest choice to be Minister, I grant, but he's a smart man in the right circumstances. He's a little too easily… _swayed_  by the coin, but I suppose the Devil I know beats the Devil I don't. He's an easy man to understand and does the job he's meant to do with a modicum of ability.” He stared at Faith as she raised an eyebrow. “He's an idiot, yes. But he's who is in charge and we have to respect that.”

Faith said nothing more on the subject. “Let's go rebuild bridges.” She took his hand. “King's Cross Station. Near the boarding platform.”

Percy nodded and again, Faith's world was sent into a tailspin. “God, I'm never gonna get used to that.”

The pair of them looked about and saw very, very few people. A few minutes later, a pair of sharp  _cracks_  broke the silence.

Percy and Faith stood, face to face with Arthur and Molly Weasley. Molly rushed forward and threw herself at Percy. “God, Percy.” She cried. “It's good to see you again.”

Arthur was stone-faced as he watched the display.

“It's good to see you again, mum.” He said, happily. Truthfully he missed the hugs he got from his mother. “Faith told me you'd been crying since I left.”

“You said some rather harsh words, son.” Arthur said, doing his level best to sound civil. The bitterness in his tone crept through.

Percy wanted desperately to yell that he was in the right saying what he said, but Faith's words immediately rushed back to him.  _”You're a fucking Weasley. Start acting like it. Right now you seem more like a goddamn Malfoy.”_  ”You're right, dad.” He said, softly. “And I'm sorry.” He shook his head. “I should never have yelled like I did.” He then looked his father in the eye. “But is it so hard for you to believe that maybe Minister Fudge saw something in me that made him want to choose me as his assistant?”

Arthur, like his son wanted to bellow and rage. He knew that wasn't it. He just wanted his son to see it. He turned and red and was preparing to do just that when Faith stepped up. “Percy was a prefect for three years, wasn't he?” She asked the man.

“What?” Arthur asked her, distracted. “Oh. Yes, yes he was.” He smiled. “We were so proud.” He turned to Percy, his anger forgotten at the wonderful memory. “To know that another of our sons was made prefect. It was nice to see.”

“So he's a pretty sharp kid?” Faith asked.

In that moment, Arthur realized what Faith had done. She'd pointed out that Percy  _did_  have the chops to attain things on his own steam. “I suppose he did at that.” Arthur said. “If anyone felt that you were wrong for the role, they'd have voiced it, wouldn't they?”

“I'm not spying on you, dad. I'm not trying to spy on Dumbledore.” Percy said, adamantly. “I'm just trying to do what the Minister pays me to do. As Faith pointed out, the man is a bit of an idiot, but he's my boss and he is the Minister. You and mum both told me that you respect the station if not the individual. That's all I'm doing.” He sighed. “I still don't believe a hundred percent that…” He swallowed. “ _Voldemort_  is back…” Faith saw Arthur's jaw tighten. “ _But_  if he has returned or is poised to, I will not fall to his side. I'll fight him with everything I have. I'll be with you come what may.”

Arthur stared at him long and hard. “I know you think me crazy, son.”

“Dad? I've thought you odd since I was old enough to walk.” Percy said, smiling.

“Your father has been strange since I met him.” Molly said, happily. “We don't expect you to abandon everything you believe and everything you hold true, son. We just don't want you angry with us. And we don't want to be angry with you.”

“I know mum. I'm so sorry for making you cry.” Percy said. He hugged his mother tightly and offered a hand to his father. Arthur smiled with tear filled eyes and moved in, holding his wife and son in the warm August night. “I love you both so much.” His voice cracked as he said the words.

Faith wiped the tears from her own eyes. She'd done a good thing, she felt.  _If B could see me now_. She thought to herself.

“Faith, get in here.” Molly said, her voice thick with emotion. Before coming to London, Faith hated casual physical contact. She wasn't a hugger. But she found that she was getting a lot more comfortable with it.

The three of them spoke for almost an hour. Faith went inside to the coffee cart and ordered four mocha lattes and brought them out for the group. It turned out that none of the Weasleys had ever had one before and thought they were delicious.

Percy did reveal that Lucius Malfoy was furious as could be with Faith. He did warn her that the Malfoy patriarch wasn't a man to be trifled with.

“Trust me, he isn't the first person to be pissed at me. Probably won't be the last.”

Percy smiled at her. “I find myself woefully unsurprised.”

Arthur and Molly did take special care not to mention where they were currently staying. And Percy didn't ask.

It was a nice reunion and a lot of old baggage was dumped. All three admitted that the Ministry, Dumbledore, and Voldemort were topics of conversation that were best avoided. Percy did say that he was sorry for the way that both Harry and Dumbledore were being portrayed in the press. He also shared that if there was something that could be done about it, he would do it.

“That's actually a good thing.” Faith said. “If Voldemort believes – shut up Percy, we know you don't believe it – that no one is taking it seriously, he'll keep his guard down.”

Arthur nodded. “That's actually good thinking.”

Percy had to admit, that for something the Minister is steadfastly denying, his family, to a person all seemed very determined to believe it.

That got him thinking. And he didn't like what his mind, his heart, and his gut were telling him.

The group finally parted ways with promises to see each other again. Percy again hugged his parents and Faith. “Thank you for insisting on this.” He said to her. “I needed someone to kick me in the arse.”

“Hey, I've had plenty of kicks to the ass.” She said, smiling at him. “Be amazed how well it works.”

Molly and Arthur, feeling better than they had in months popped back to the Black house with Faith in tow. Molly gushed to everyone that was still awake that she and Arthur, thanks to Faith, was able to get a good start on mending their relationship with their son, Percy. The Weasley children were all flabbergasted. They remembered how nasty the fight was and were shocked that they could get through to him.

“I wanna go to bed.” Faith said to Harry. She then took his hand and led him upstairs. She pushed the door closed and locked it. She then turned to him and immediately pulled her clothes off. She didn't put on the underwear and tank top that she normally wore.

Harry knew immediately what she wanted. He'd been refusing her advances because, something deep down told him that by doing  _that_  it would somehow damage their relationship. He wasn't sure why, it was just a feeling he had. Faith moved up to him.

The was something different about her. Every time before, she was domineering. Very take charge. Now, she seemed almost… _timid_. Which was a strange look on the strong girl. “I don't wanna wait anymore.” Faith said to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down, kissing him. “For the past month, I've been doing everything in my power not to fall in love with you. I thought that if I didn't say it, it wouldn't be real, you know? That I wouldn't be…” She shook head and rested against his forehead. “But that just ain't the way it is.” She was near tears. “People like me…slayers. We aren't…we ain't allowed to fall in love, you know? We're constantly living on borrowed time. Death always right around the corner.” She looked into his eyes. “But that's the way you live, too, isn't it? Always having to worry what tomorrow will bring. With Voldemort out there terrorizing and plotting, you never really know when today is that last day.” She let out a sob. “Fuckin' crying.” She said wiping her eyes. “I don't fuckin' cry.”

“It's alright, Faith.” Harry said, holding her. “I…”

“I love you, Harry.” Faith said, her voice hitching. “And I'm done waiting.” She kissed him fiercely. The minute sense of shyness she showed was gone, replaced with the hard as nails girl that demolished the Dementor all those weeks ago. “I love you and tonight I'm gonna prove it.” She said, her eyes filled with lust.

And much to Harry's delight, she did just that.

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

“Harry.” Faith said, gently shaking the boy. “Time to get up, baby.”

He blinked his eyes open to see her standing over him with her hair wet about her face and shoulders. She was clad in a pair of black leather breeches and a black sleeveless shirt. “What time is it?” He asked her.

“Half past seven.” Faith offered. She leaned down and pecked him on the lips. “Enough time for you to get up and grab a shower. I already laid out your clothes and Mrs. Weasley is downstairs making sure everyone gets breakfast before we jet.”

He nodded and sat up, wiping his eyes. The blankets fell away from him as he did so. “Damn.” Faith said, shaking her head. “You look good enough to eat right now.”

Harry looked at her, looked down at his chest and back up to her. He pulled the blanket back up. “Sorry.”

Faith grinned. “I'm not. Come on. Up and at 'em.”

Harry rose to his feet and stretched. After a wonderful night, he'd slept like a rock. He remembered something about a hallway from his dream but paid it no mind. For the most part, the girl in front of him dominated his thoughts. He reached up and itched his scar before pulling on his robe and heading for the bathroom.

After showering and getting dressed, the pair made their way down the stairs. The scene was chaotic as hell.

“Faith, dear,” Molly said, rushing toward her. “This arrived for you this morning.” She thrust an envelope at her before moving away.

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley.” Faith said, looking the front. “It says it's from right here in London. How does anyone know I'm here?”

Molly simply shrugged and moved to help the other children get ready. Faith furrowed her brow and looked down at it.

“Any idea who it's from?” Harry asked her.

“No clue,” She said, shaking her head. She moved off to the side of the hallway to keep from getting bumped into by the residents of the house. Faith stared at her a moment. She got the impression the woman was hiding something. She nearly moved off to question Molly further but decided it against it. She opened the envelope and pulled out the elegantly written letter. She read it and was stunned nearly into silence. “No way,” She said, shaking her head. She turned pale with shock.

“What does it say?” Harry asked, concern in his voice.

Both Hermione and Ron had stopped beside them and were likewise curious. “Well, who is it from?” Hermione asked. “I was up when it arrived. I was so curious, but you were still abed. What does it say?”

“Dear Faith. We have been monitoring you closely since you arrived in London on the first of August. We've gone through great lengths to locate you. Let me first congratulate you on your appointment as Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. It is a very prestigious academy in magical circles. I want it known that we understand that you were in a very difficult place during a very difficult time while in Sunnydale. Your actions while there still mark you as being under probation with us, but the progress you have made in just the past month alone shows that you have no desire to repeat the mistakes of the past. For that, we are willing to overlook your transgressions, provided you continue your current trend of redemption and atonement. As you are a slayer, the Watcher's Council is obligated to be here for you. If you've any needs, please contact us. We would like to you to call us with updates weekly so we may assist you in keeping this new leaf firmly overturned. Signed, Quentin Travers. Director of Operations, Watcher's Council, London.” Faith looked with trembling eyes at Harry. “They knew. They knew I was here the whole time.”

“It isn't really that surprising is it?” Hermione said. “From what I've read of them, they're a rather large organization. Given that you're one of only two slayers in the world, they don't really have much to occupy their time.”

“Why didn't they come after me?” Faith asked, curious. The nervousness in her tone made Harry step up and wrap his arms about her waist.

“Probably wanted to see what you'd do first,” Ron said. “Make sure you still weren't all crazy and violent. You told us what you did to the last guys that came after you. Maybe they didn't wanna risk that again.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Faith said.

Harry hugged her close. “This is good news, right? It means they're not looking for you anymore.”

Faith turned to him. “That is good news, but there's something else that has me bothered. Think about it.” She said, her voice hard. “This arrived for me.” She stared at him. “ _Here_ , Harry. The one place that wasn't supposed to be found. There's wards and spells around this place that makes breaking into the Pentagon look like a field trip.” She lifted the letter. “And the Council  _found_  me here. If they can find us, who else can?”

All three of the kids looked at her, suddenly understanding her fear. “I didn't think of that.” Harry offered.

“Do you think Voldemort has followers in the Watcher's Council?” Hermione asked.

Harry immediately shook his head. “No. As much of a blood purist as he is, he would see the Council as a whole beneath his notice. Regardless of their knowledge and power, he would see them all as muggles, not worth his time. He wouldn't bother with it.”

“I need to know how they found me.” Faith said, walking toward the door. “I got a phone call to make.”

She stepped out into the mild morning air and pulled her phone out. “Hello?” Giles answered, yawning.

“Hey, tweed. Sorry to bother you so late.”

“That's alright, Faith. What's the matter?”

“They found me,” She said, sighing.

“Who? Who found you?” Giles asked her.

“The Watcher's Council. They sent me a letter this morning. They said they've been monitoring me since I got into London. They even knew the day I arrived.” She was quiet a moment. “How did they find me?”

“I can assure you, I haven't spoken with them in more than a year,” Giles said, trying to reassure her. “They didn't learn from me.”

“Do you still have a number to contact them?” Faith asked. “I gotta know how they found me.”

Giles gave her the number. “I don't know what good it will do.”

“It'll answer questions.” Faith said. “If they can find me, then so can other people.”

“I suppose that's true,” He said, nodding. “Good luck.”

“Anything on Moldy-butt yet?”

“Not as such. Apart from a wide smattering of articles regarding his disappearance over a decade and a half ago, there's not much to go on. I'm still waiting to hear back from some of my contacts in Europe. As soon as I learn anything I'll let you know.”

“Thanks, tweed.” Faith said. “I just have to know. I gotta know Harry is safe.”

“If I didn't know better, I would think you sounded like a girl in love, Faith,” Giles said, a smile in his voice.

“Guess you don't know any better, huh?” Faith said, ending the call. She then dialed the number Giles had given her.

“Please enter verification code.” The computerized female voice said on the other end.

Faith sighed. “Great.” She pressed zero several times.

“Please state your name and reason for calling.” A woman asked.

“My name is Faith Lehane. I'm one of your active slayers. I'd like to speak with Quentin Travers, please.” She said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

“One moment, Miss Lehane.” The woman said, her tone suddenly very serious.

Seconds later a brisk man's voice came over the phone. “Good morning, Faith. I trust you received our letter?”

“How'd you find me?” She asked.

“We never lost you. Well, that's not precisely true. After you escaped from our team in Sunnydale, we had no idea where you were. But then, low and behold we find you stepping off of a cargo ship on our very doorstep.”

“But how did you find me  _here_?” She pressed.

“We have our ways,” Quentin said. Sighing as he knew that she would never accept that and move on, he added; “We have a friend that's very close to Harry Potter and therefore by association, you. Rest assured this individual poses no threat to you or him. They're as loyal to Harry as you are.”

Faith accepted that at face value. She knew how far she would go for him. If there was someone else that would do just as much, she was content with that. “Why didn't you guys try and pick me up?” Faith asked him.

“Make no mistake, we contemplated it very hard. It was ultimately my decision. But something stopped me.”

“What was that?”

“You did,” He said. “Buffy Summers said something that gave me pause. She was very, very cross with the whole 'body swapping' fiasco. You were poised to leave Sunnydale in Buffy's body, leaving her, in yours to take the blame for all you'd done. But you didn't leave. You went back and stormed the church that the vampires had taken over. Even when you were at your darkest, you still did your job.” He paused a moment. “That's what made me stay my hand. Just as an aside, she told me something else that made me disgusted. When Buffy was in your body and was captured by the extraction team, one of them was so angered at you that he literally spit in your face.” His voice was tight with anger. “He's since been let go.”

“I didn't know that.” Faith said, softly. “So what happens now?”

“That depends on you. We've been following what's been happening with the Dark Lord. We know of his plans and what he's since accomplished. He'd developing ties with the supernatural community at large. Having you where you are is actually a benefit to us. It was very much a lucky coincidence that you made contact with young Harry. And you're placed, now in a position of real authority. But we would still like to have contact with you while you're there. Call us once a week, just to let us know what you're doing.”

“I'm not gonna be able to call you. From what I've heard…”

“That Hogwarts is largely 'off the grid' as they say?” He asked her. “Don't worry. Dumbledore assured me that he was having the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, office and the attached apartment that you'll be staying in wired for electricity. And you needn't worry about your cell phone not working. You won't be able to take snapshots and what have you, but you'll be able to make calls just fine.”

“How's that work?” Faith asked.

“You're standing outside the Black house, currently, yes?” Quentin asked.

“Well, yeah, but…”

“Go back inside,” He said to her. “You'll be amazed.”

Faith did as he suggested. “I'm walking back in right now.” She heard only a telltale scratchiness on the phone, but otherwise, it was clear as day. “How is this possible?”

“Modern cellular phones aren't as subject to electromagnetic interference as they used to be. You should still be able to get in touch with us.”

“So magic is just electromagnetic interference?” She asked.

“It's very similar. In extremely magic heavy places, you won't be able to make calls, but from what Dumbledore has said, he can make exceptions with some of Hogwarts' wards. Your phone will work inside.”

“Thanks. Thanks for giving me another chance.” Faith said. “I know I screwed up. I gotta lot to make up for but I'm trying.”

“When you hit rock bottom, the only direction to go is up,” Quentin said. “But I want it known, Faith. This is the last chance you get. You cause trouble again and we will take you into custody and you will never see the sunshine again, is my meaning understood?” He paused a second. “And before you think you can disappear, let me clarify. You can't. Given your rather unique condition, you can be tracked magically to the ends of the earth.”

“I fuck up again, I'm dead.” Faith said. She didn't like being threatened, but as Harry looked at her, concern and anger on his face, she realized that it was a hollow threat. Because she found a reason to be her best in the boy. Harry was her purpose now. He had the potential to save the world. She had the strength and skill to make sure he got the chance. “I understand where you're coming from. I promise I won't let you down again.”

“Fair enough. Is there anything you need?” He asked.

Faith smiled. “Nah,” She said, looking at her boyfriend. “I'm good.”

“Then good luck. And again congratulations on your new posting.” Quentin said.

“Later,” She said, ending the call. She moved over, pulled Harry in and kissed him.

After her call, everything was a whirlwind of activity as everyone ate breakfast and prepared to leave. Moody growled and grumbled that the guard wasn't complete, but eased off when Faith said she would keep Harry close. “Harry, Faith. You're to come along with me and Tonks.”

They left their trunks and Hedwig behind per Molly's instructions. They walked along the street in the pale September light. Harry took Faith's hand and held it as they walked. She wasn't quite sure how to feel about it…but she didn't pull away. He looked at her with a wide smile. “I think you're going to love it there,” He said to her.

She could see his excitement at the prospect of going back. To him, it was everything. “Like it or not, I got a job to do.”

“Any idea what your lesson plan is going to be?” Molly asked her.

“Yeah. I was just gonna clear the desks aside and stand the kids all up in two rows, facing each other and let them throw knives at each other.” Faith said, deadpan.

Molly whirled on her. “Surely not!”

“No.” Faith said, snickering.

Molly groaned and gave her a push. “You're terrible.”

“I know. No, I plan to teach them all some basic defense. Maybe some physical training to get their bodies hardened up. Probably gonna develop meal plans to make sure they're healthy and stay that way, that kind of thing.”

“That's a good idea,” Molly said, happily. She was rather thick-bodied, but to her credit, very, very little of it was fat. She could toil for hours at a time and not be fatigued in the slightest and hauling heaping baskets of laundry was nothing to her.

Faith, thanks to the letter and phone calls she'd made, was feeling better than she had in a long time. The station, during the day, was awash with activity. The group waited, meeting up outside and casually lingering about the space between platform nine and ten. They went through the gate in drips and drabs. Harry took Faith's hand and led her through.

“That was just weird.” Faith said. “Like walking through Jell-O.”

Hermione stepped through and smiled at her. “And as you can see, there's plenty of room for it.”

Faith belted out a laugh. “That was funny.” She then turned and looked about the platform. It was teeming with students. Many young and fresh-faced, looking forward to their first year at the prestigious academy. Others, ranging from ages twelve to seventeen, eagerly awaiting their return to the school. _And it's going to be my job to educate them_. She thought to herself. She'd never been filled with such contradictory feelings in her life. She was utterly terrified that she'd be responsible for teaching actual students. And she was excited as could be…because she'd be responsible for teaching actual students.

She looked past the students and saw the massive bulk of the black iron locomotive that was tasked with taking them to northern Scotland for their school year. “That thing's gotta be old as hell,” She said, eyeing the train.

Harry stepped forward. “Not rightly sure how old it is. I agree, it's gotta be quite old, I'd imagine.”

Mrs. Weasley wished them well and shoved them all toward the train. “Hurry now. If you've forgotten anything we'll send it on.”

The group all clambered onto the train as the great whistle blew. “Should we go and find a compartment, then?” Harry said, looking at his friends.

Ron nodded, but Hermione bit her lip. “I'm – well – I'm supposed to go into the prefect Carriage,” She said, sheepishly.

Harry sighed. “Right. Fine.” He said, trying to be nonchalant. He was a bit disappointed but hid it well.

“I don't think I'll have to stay there all journey,” said Hermione quickly. “My letter said I just get instructions from the Head Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time.”

“Fine,” said Harry again. “Well, I-I might see you later, then.”

Hermione nodded and moved on.

Harry led Faith, Ginny, and Ron to find an empty compartment. Harry had Hedwig's cage in one hand. Faith was lugging both her and his trunks with ease along behind him. He was peering through the glass-paneled doors into the compartments they passed, each of which was already at capacity. Harry couldn't help noticing that a lot of people stared back at him with great interest. Several of them nudged their neighbors and pointed him out. After he'd met this behavior a full five carriages he remembered what the  _Daily Prophet_  had been telling its readers all summer what a lying show-off he was. He wondered bleakly whether the people now staring and believed what it said.

“You okay, baby?” Faith asked him. She'd noticed his ever growing annoyance as he looked for a compartment for them.

“Everyone's staring at me. No doubt because of what the  _Daily Prophet_ has been saying.” Harry said, his voice tired.

“And given that the  _Daily Prophet_  is saying it, most people believe it,” Ginny said. “A lot of wizards are dumb.” Ron nodded his agreement.

“Get behind me.” Faith said. “I'll look.” Harry did as she suggested. “Jesus tapdancing Christ. Haven't these ass-hats ever heard of a baggage car?” She growled. “Even Amtrak has a baggage car.”

In the final carriage, Faith finally found a room that only one girl was sitting in. She had a thick mane of sandy blonde hair that hung nearly to her knees, a lean, yet pretty face and wide pale blue eyes. “Hey, blondie. Mind if we invade your bubble for the trip?”

Harry moved up, looked inside and knew at once why other students had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave off an aura of…not exactly being  _all there_. She had her wand stuck in behind her left ear, she wore a necklace of butterbeer corks, and was reading a magazine upside down. He was somewhat surprised that Faith hadn't picked up on the girl's strangeness.

The girl nodded to the Faith. “I like your pants,” She said, running her eyes up and down Faith's leather trousers. “Are they comfortable?”

Faith moved into the compartment and began shoving the trunks into the luggage rack. “More than you'd think,” She said, finally wedging Hedwig's cage in. She wiped her hands and offered one to the girl. “Faith. I'm going to be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.”

“Luna Lovegood.” The girl said, taking Faith's hand and shaking it.

“Hi, Luna,” Ginny said, happily.

Luna watched them over her upside-down magazine as they sidled into the compartment. Faith took the seat across from her. Harry snuggled in close to Faith with Ginny seated beside him. Ron took the spot beside Luna.

Faith looked the girl over and saw she was reading something called  _The Quibbler_. She'd heard that the magazine was something of a tabloid. But she also understood that what the movie Men In Black said, was actually very true. Ninety-nine percent of what was reported in such magazines was actually pretty accurate. Yes, the headlines always seemed to need a bit of work, but largely they were filled with good investigative reporting. Faith's eyes traveled south, taking in the blue-green sweater, the red calf-length skirt with snowflakes on it, her green and black stripped stockings and the funkiest shoes Faith had ever seen. For all intents and purposes, they looked like converse all-star high tops. But they were an extremely unique red and white tartan pattern with strawberries, red peppers, tomatoes and cherries in the center of the squares intermittently topped off with red and white laces. “I love your shoes.” Faith said, grinning. “Those are awesome.”

She looked at Faith and gave her a soft smile. “Thank you.” She turned to Harry.

“Had a good summer, Luna?” Ginny asked.

“Yes,” said Luna dreamily, without taking her eyes off Harry. “Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know.” She paused a moment. “ _You're_  Harry Potter,” She added.

“Last time I checked,” Harry said, staring at her. He realized quickly that, over the past month, some of Faith's wry humor was starting to rub off on him.

Ron chuckled. Luna turned her pale eyes to him. “And I don't know who you are.”

“I'm Ron Weasley,” He said, waving.

“Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw,” Ginny said, brightly.

“ _Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure_ ,” said Luna in a singsong voice.

Faith raised an eyebrow. “ _And know if for truth, as the defiant youth, in the end, they all defend the life and times they covet. Death and screams, love and dreams none of all are above it_.” She smiled at Luna. “I didn't know you were a Freak Wharf fan.”

Luna stared at her. “I do not know anything about wharfs, freak or otherwise. I quoted Rowena Ravenclaw.”

“Really?” Faith asked. “Those are also part of the lyrics to  _Screams of the Young_  by Freak Wharf. They're a metal band back in the states.”

“Oh. That would be interesting to see. An orchestra made out of metal.” Luna said, whimsically.

“What…are you fuckin' with me?” Faith looked to Harry. “Is she screwing with me?”

He shook his head. “A lot of wizards aren't familiar with the terms you use.” He looked to Luna. “She means that Freak Wharf is the name of a band and they play music that is called heavy metal,” He explained to Luna.

“I am sorry if I upset you,” Luna said. “Father doesn't listen to much music.”

Faith nodded, rose to her feet and pulled her trunk down. “Then you're in for a treat.” She pulled her laptop out and fired it up.

“Wow.” Ginny and Ron said, in unison. “I've never seen one up close.” Ron offered.

Faith grinned and brought up her music. She kept the volume low to prevent it from blowing their eardrums out and played the song for them.

Ginny quickly realized that she wasn't a fan of hard driving heavy metal, preferring music with a bit more… _pop_. Ron, on the other hand, seemed very much into it. Harry had gotten used to it in the month since meeting her.

Luna, however, simply listened intently to the lyrics of the song. She had no appreciable reaction to it whatsoever. “I like it.” She finally said after the song had finished. “Very loud, very strong and very brutal.” Then without another word, she lifted her magazine and went back to reading.

Faith shrugged and put her laptop away. She was content to sit and enjoy the view out the window.

The food trolley came by and they all ordered. Except for Luna. “You gonna eat anything, blondie?”

“I have no money,” Luna said, her voice a little sad.

“I'll buy you something if you like,” Harry said. Faith didn't bother getting anything from the cart. Molly had packed all of the kids lunches consisting of corned beef sandwiches on homemade sourdough bread. Faith was beside herself. She absolutely loved them. So she dug in as Harry, Ron and Ginny went crazy buying pastries and sweets. Luna asked for a couple of Pumpkin Pasties and thanked Harry for his kindness.

It was a rather interesting time. Hermione turned up an hour later and took a seat beside Ron. Crookshanks came in and immediately bounced up into her lap. “I'm starving,” She said, taking one of Ron's Pumpkin Pasties and quickly devouring it. “Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each House.” She began, disgruntled. “Boy and girl from each.”

“I'm given to understand they do that every year.” Faith said, not understanding her anger.

“It's  _who_  was chosen that has me cross,” Hermione said. “Guess who's the prefect for Slytherin?”

“Malfoy.” Harry and Faith said in unison.

“Given that Lucius Malfoy has his nose buried so far up Minister Fudge's ass he can see the sun through the guy's mouth, it isn't really that surprising, is it?” Faith asked, looking around. Everyone in the car but Luna snickered. The blonde girl just looked at her strangely. “It's a figure of speech.” Faith explained to her.

“I figured as much. Without powerful magic, it would be impossible to push your head that far up someone's behind.” She said, monotone.

Faith couldn't help but laugh. “God, I like you.”

“And that complete  _cow_  Pansy Parkinson.” Hermione snapped viciously. “How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll…”

“Christ, Mione. You make her sound like she's booger-eatin' dumb.” Faith said, snickering.

“You haven't met her,” Ginny said.

“Let me guess. She's a bitch?” Faith asked.

“That's one way of putting it,” Hermione said. “Hufflepuff is Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott. And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw.”

“You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil,” said Luna. She looked at Harry over the top of her magazine.

“Yeah, I know I did,” Harry returned.

“She didn't enjoy it very much,” Luna informed him. “She doesn't think you treated her very well because you wouldn't dance with her.” She paused a beat. “I don't think I'd have minded.” She then added thoughtfully. “I don't like dancing very much.”

Faith was completely flabbergasted by that. She absolutely  _loved_  to dance. It was one of her favorite activities. Harry learned as much in the days before they were whisked away to Grimmauld Place. Luna retreated behind  _The Quibbler_  again. Ron stared at the cover with his mouth hanging open for a few seconds, then looked around at Ginny for some kind of explanation, but Ginny was fighting a fit of laughter.

“I'm supposed to patrol the corridors every so often,” Hermione said, looking at her wrist watch. “And we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving.”

“Then get Crabbe and Goyle for something…” Ron began.

“You're not supposed to abuse the position, Ron!” Hermione shot at him.

“Yeah, right, because Malfoy won't abuse it at all,” said Ron sarcastically.

“So you want me to descend to his level?” Hermione asked him.

“No. I'd just think that you'd want to get his mates before he gets yours,” Ron said.

Hermione sighed and leaned back. “For heaven's sake, Ron.”

“Make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing,” Ron said, cheerfully. He lowered his voice to imitate Goyle's droning groan. He twisted is face into a mask of intense concentration. “ _I…must…not…look…like…a…baboon's…backside_.” Everyone laughed, but none harder than Luna. She let out a guffaw that caused Hedwig to wake up and flap indignantly and Crookshanks to start and hiss. She laughed so hard that her magazine slipped out of her grasp, slid down her legs, and onto the floor.

“That was  _funny_!” She said, between laughs.

Faith looked over at Harry. “She's even cute when she laughs.” He just stared at her with a raised eyebrow. “Well, she is.”

“Are you taking the mickey?” Said Ron, frowning at Luna.

“ _Baboon's…backside_!” She choked out, holding her ribs. Harry watched her laughing and glanced at the magazine on the floor. He noticed something that made him dive for it. When she had it upside down, he paid it no mind, but now he could see it was a fairly bad illustration of Cornelius Fudge. Harry only recognized him because of the lime-green bowler he wore nigh constantly.

“That's actually a good likeness.” Faith said, pointing to the picture. One of Fudge's hands was clenched around a bag of gold; the other hand was throttling a goblin. “A really good likeness.” The cartoon was captioned:  _How Far Will Fudge Go to Gain Gringotts?_

He looked at the contents of the magazine and saw an article that caught his attention. SIRIUS BLACK: Villain or Victim? ”Can I have a look at this?” Harry asked Luna eagerly. She nodded, still staring whimsically at Ron. She was breathing heavily, chuckling. Harry opened the magazine and scanned the index. Until this moment, he had completely forgotten the magazine Kingsley had handed Mr. Weasley to give to Sirius, back in the Ministry, but it must have been this edition of  _The Quibbler_. He found the page and turned excitedly to the article.

Like the one before, this cartoon was also poorly illustrated. Harry wouldn't have known it was supposed to be Sirius if it hadn't been captioned. In the cartoon, Sirius was standing on a pile of human bones with his wand out. The headline on the article read: SIRIUS - Black As He's Painted?  _Notorious Mass Murderer OR Innocent Singing Sensation?_

Harry furrowed his brow and had to read the line several times. He wasn't entirely sure he had seen it right.  _Since when had Sirius been a singing sensation?_

“Does that say what I think it says?” Faith asked, reading over his shoulder and asking him quietly. Harry nodded as the pair of them read on. Apparently, a woman by the name of Doris Purkiss believed Sirius to be the lead singer of a band by the name of the  _Hobgoblins_. Faith saw it and chuckled. “Yeah, I don't think so.”

Another article regarding Fudge claimed that he was a goblin-hater so extreme that he would drown them, drop them off buildings, poison them and have them cooked in pies. She sighed and leaned back. “Jesus.” She shook her head.

“Anything good in there?” asked Ron as Harry closed the magazine.

“Of course not,” Hermione said, scathingly. “ _The Quibbler_ 's rubbish, everyone knows that.”

“Excuse me,” Luna said. Her voice now carried an edge so cold, Faith was sure she saw mist. “My father's the editor.”

Faith couldn't help but smile as Hermione was suddenly stricken dumb with the murderous glare being leveled her way from the blonde fourth year. She knew the look Luna had on her face. It was one that she'd worn many,  _many_  times. And it spoke of ill things being done to one's personal well-being on a level Hermione  _really_  wasn't ready for.

For her part, Hermione did try very hard to backpedal. “I – oh. Well…it's got some interesting…I mean, it's quite…”

“I'll have it back, thank you,” Luna said icily, snatching it from Harry's hand, before turning it upside down and going back to her reading.

“How's your foot taste, Mione?” Ron asked her. The bushy haired brunette snapped her eyes to him angrily.

Faith chuckled and nestled back in her seat.

The door of the compartment suddenly flew open. Faith, along with everyone else, with the exception, of course, of Luna, turned to stare at the new arrivals. She remained behind her magazine and didn't so much as register them with even a glance.

Faith stared at the blonde boy as he glared intently at Harry. She knew immediately that this was Draco Malfoy. The Malfoy resemblance was uncanny. The two lumps behind him were obviously Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. She'd been given a full rundown, by everyone on the three of them.

“What?” Harry snapped before Malfoy could open his mouth.

“Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention,” drawled Malfoy. The boy was entirely too happy with himself. “You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments.”

Faith was ready to jump in when Harry cut her off. “Yeah,” said Harry. “But you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone.”

Faith, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny laughed.

Malfoy's lip curled. “Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Granger, Potter?” He asked.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” said Hermione sharply.

“I seem to have touched a nerve,” Malfoy said, smirking. “Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I'll be dogging your footsteps in case you step out of line.”

Faith leaned forward. “Guess what, slick? You just screwed up,  _real bad_. One, you just lost fifty points for your house. Threatening students with authority is something I don't tolerate. Two, you'll be spending your entire first week with me in detention for  _deliberately_  starting trouble.” She shook her head. “I don't suffer bullies, kid.”

“Who are you?” Malfoy asked, snappishly.

“Faith Lehane,” She said. “I'm your new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. Now I suggest you apologize to Harry and go find somewhere else to be.”

“I don't have to…” Malfoy began.

Faith cut him off. “Wanna make it a hundred points?” She asked him. “You keep pissing me off and the house cup will so far from Slytherin's reach you'll have to dream about it to see it again.”

He growled under his breath. “Sorry, Harry,” He said, before turning and leaving with Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

“You know Snape is going to just give those points back,” Hermione said.

“I'll be talking to Dumbledore and Snape as soon as I get there. I don't really dig on the whole house point system, but if it works, it works.”

The sky opened up and started spattering the train with rain. Luna calmly put her magazine away and saw fit to stare at the occupants of the compartment. Faith sat with her arms crossed over her chest dozing. Harry lay against her shoulder, watching out the window.

Ginny and Ron were exchanging cards from the chocolate frogs. Hermione had taken to patrolling the train, wishing to make a good first impression.

Hour after hour ticked by. “We should change,” Ginny said, as the train began slowing.

All four students donned their robes. They heard the racket outside the compartment that heralded the arrival in Hogsmead.

Faith left both Harry and her trunks in the overhead rack. She'd been informed to do so and that they would be up at the castle shortly after they arrived. “Follow me,” She said, moving through the people like the prow of an icebreaker through the frozen north. Students were forced out of the way for fear of getting bowled over. Luna, Ginny, Harry and Ron made up their convoy. They disembarked from the train and onto the platform at large.

He frowned when he saw not Hagrid, but Professor Grubbly-Plank, the substitute Care of Magical Creatures teacher that filled in for Hagrid previously. She was directing the first years just as Hagrid had the previous years.

Faith saw his confusion and rested a hand on his shoulder. “He's taking care of something important. He'll be back, don't worry.” She said to Harry.

He nodded and gave it no more thought. They all made it to the road beside Hogsmead station.

“Luna?” Hermione asked, stepping up beside the girl. “I…I wanted to apologize about what I said earlier.” She bit her lip. “I didn't mean to upset you. I had no idea your father was a part of  _The Quibbler's_  staff.”

Luna looked at her, her face having gone from whimsical to serious. “Had you known, would it have changed your opinion on the magazine as a whole?”

Hermione sighed and shook her head. “I am sorry, but no. I still think it's silly nonsense. But that doesn't mean I don't see some of the appeal. I'll admit that some of the stories can be rather fun, but I don't take them as fact.”

Luna stared at her a long time as they walked. She then gave Hermione a soft smile. “Beliefs are like cheese. Everyone likes it, but every once in a while, one just plains stinks.” She took Hermione's hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you for apologizing.”

Hermione's hand felt warm. Strangely, she liked it. She gave Luna a subtle nod and moved over to do her prefect duties. She felt better for having apologized. And she was a fan of Luna's disarming smiles.

As they always had, there stood the hundred or so horseless stagecoaches that always took the students above first year up to the castle. “Whoa.” Faith said, raising an eyebrow. “What are those?” She asked.

Harry looked and saw what she was talking about. “They…they weren't there last year,” He said, moving forward.

“They've always pulled the coaches,” Luna said, softly.

The creatures were akin to horses, but basic form was where the similarities ended. Their heads were very reptilian, as was their leathery skin. Wings jutted from their sides, behind their necks and they look as though they were almost emaciated. Faith was fairly certain that they were anything but. “Freaky.”

“What are you lot talking about?” Ron asked, looking at the front of the carriages.

“These horse-bat-dragon things.” Faith said, pointing. “Freaky lookin' ain't they?”

Ron followed her line and didn't see a blasted thing. “I don't see anything.”

Faith looked at him and back to the creature. “Really?” She shook her head. “Okay, then.”

“You haven't gone peculiar, have you?” Ron asked her as they all moved toward a coach.

“Jury's out.” Faith said, pulling Harry close to her. She could see Draco Malfoy, followed by his goons and one Pansy Parkinson pushing some timid-looking second years out of the way so that they could get a coach to themselves.

“Gimme a second.” Faith said, moving toward the coach the blonde boy had claimed.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny all smiled. “This is going to be so good,” Ron said, happily.

Faith stepped up to the door just as it closed and wrenched it open. “Get out,” She said to the blonde boy. “All of you, get out.”

Draco growled and mumbled something under his breath, before climbing back out. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy followed him.

“What was that, goldilocks?” Faith asked, staring Draco in the eye.

“I said my father is going to hear about this.” Draco snapped. “He's going to learn that…”

“That you haven't even been a school a single day and your behavior has been so damn terrible that you've lost fifty points for your house and earned a week's worth of detention? That you didn't have your badge for a full day before you started blatantly flaunting your authority? That you deliberately drew attention to yourself and showed absolutely no discretion whatsoever?” Faith asked, cutting him off. “Yeah, he is. And you know what? Knowing your dad as I do, he's going to be so completely disappointed with you that it isn't even funny. He won't be mad that you did what you did. I'm not gonna fool myself into believing that because you're dad's an asshole. But he  _will_  be pissed that you were so blatant about it. He'll be pissed that you  _got caught_.” She motioned to the second year students that were trying for the coach. “Come on guys. Right, this way.” She waited as the four kids smiled and climbed in. She shut the door and turned to Draco and his mooks. “Now. You four are going to stand here and make sure  _everyone_  gets a seat before you get on. Am I clear? I find you were screwing around and treating the kids like crap and I'll strip a hundred house points a pop.” She smiled. “That's four hundred in case you can't count.” With that, she turned and walked back to the group.

Hermione had since joined them. “That seemed rather excessive.”

“Fight fire with fire. Draco wants to abuse his authority, I'll just have to make sure he realizes that he doesn't have anywhere near as much as he thinks he does.” Faith said, smiling. “Unlike you, I'm  _already_  at his level. The difference is I've been there a lot longer and can beat him with experience.”

Ron laughed as he climbed into the carriage. “Gonna be a good year,” He said, whimsically. The rest of them followed suit, nodding their agreement.

 


	10. Chapter 10

The carriages all came to a soft rolling halt in front of the impressive structure. Faith was beside herself. She'd only ever seen castles in movies and on paper. She'd never,  _ever_  seen one in real life. And Hogwarts was a castle second to none. Its towers and parapets rose into the sky like great fingers of stone. Lights glimmered in many of the windows. “Holy crap,” She said, in wonderment.

“Welcome to Hogwarts, Faith,” Harry said taking her hand as they approached.

“If my high school looked like this…I probably still wouldn't have gone, but I would have at least felt bad about it.” She said.

“I'm told you don't really learn anything in muggle high schools anyway.” Hermione offered.

“I sure didn't learn much.” Faith said, shrugging.

The students all climbed out and headed up to the front entrance of the school and through the heavy wood and iron doors.

The main foyer and subsequent passages were lit by large torches secured to the wall in heavy iron sconces.

“Professor Lehane?” A sharp female voice called out.

Harry leaned closer to Faith. “That would be you.”

Faith looked at him and turned to the source of the voice. A tall woman with jet black hair and dark emerald green robes was beckoning her over. “Oh, Professor Lehane.” The woman said again.

“Never gonna get used to that.” Faith said. “I'll catch you later, Harry,” She said, giving him a smile, before heading off toward the witch that summoned her. Faith immediately held her hand out to the woman. “I'm Faith.”

“Yes, I know.” The woman said, taking the girl's hand. “You're to be our new Defense against the Dark Arts Professor.”

Faith could hear the disapproval straight away. “Listen…”

“McGonagall. Minerva McGonagall. I'm the Deputy Headmistress and the Transfigurations Professor. I'm also the head of House Gryffindor.”

“Right. I know you're not exactly keen on the idea of someone like me teaching…” Faith began, but McGonagall cut her off.

“In Harry's first year, the Professor in your position turned out to be possessed by Voldemort and nearly killed Harry. In his second year, Professor Lockhart attempted to use a memory charm to remove Harry and Ron's memories. Harry's third year, his teacher turned out to be a werewolf, though to be honest, Remus Lupin was one of the best instructors we've had in a good long while. Last year, the class was supposed to be taught by Alastor Moody. As it happens, he spent months locked in a trunk while someone of ill character assumed his form and manipulated events throughout most of the year until he was found out.” She paused a moment. “As you can no doubt sense, we've not had a lot of luck with wizards in your current position. I honestly can't see the year being any  _worse_  for you assuming the role.”

“From the bottom, the only way to go is up?” Faith asked her.

“Or at the very least, stay the course. But it does worry me that you know no magic to speak of and, in all honesty, you aren't even on par with a squib in terms of ability.”

“True.” Faith said. “But I do know ways of defending against magic that have nothing to do with spell ability.”

“So Dumbledore assures me. If we do as we've always done, we'll get as we have always gotten.” McGonagall said. “I'm willing to give you a chance. I like to judge on a person's own merits. Now come. We've got to get into the great hall for the feast.”

“I was thinking. Since I don't know any magic, maybe I could get a teacher's assistant. I can show the kids the proper movements until the cows come home, but I can't show the spell being successfully cast.”

McGonagall thought a moment as they walked. “Did you have anyone specific in mind?”

She smiled at the elder witch and nodded.

As they entered the great hall, they finished talking. And Faith was glad for it. The room was absolutely resplendent in its decoration. Gold and black banners and tapestries, the colors of House Hufflepuff, Faith knew, hung from the walls and ceiling. Harry had informed her that The House Cup was, at first, to be awarded to both houses, on account of Harry and Cedric Diggory winning the Tri-Wizard Tournament together. Harry declined and suggested that it be solely given to Hufflepuff out of respect and memory of the fallen champion.

She was led up onto a dais upon which a long table sat. She could see the various other staffers sitting there with looks ranging from absolute joy to iron hard bitterness. Professor Snape looked at her with hatred that she'd only seen a handful of times. Even Buffy, after everything Faith had put her through, didn't look at her like that. But she found that she really didn't give a shit. He wasn't who she was here for. She ignored him and moved over beside Dumbledore. “Can I talk to you and Professor Snape after we get done in here?”

“Absolutely,” He said, smiling at her.

She took her seat and leaned back, watching the festivities. She'd been told of the ghosts that haunted the place. She was a little creeped out by it, but she did her best to ignore it. She heard tell that there was only one ghost in the entirety of the school that was truly mischievous; a poltergeist by the name of Peeves. From what everyone said he was more annoying than dangerous and was best ignored. She'd read through a fair amount of Diana's books before she'd been killed and knew full well what was needed to banish a poltergeist. He fucked with her just once and she would send his ass packing.

The second through seventh-year students were all led in and allowed to take their seats. McGonagall rose to her feet and brought out a stool with a large grungy looking pointed hat and stepped to the side, pulling a large parchment from her hand.

At once the newest arrivals to Hogwarts came into the hall in single file. Harry had told her how nervous he was during his sorting ceremony. Now, he sat, smiling at her fondly. She gave him a wink and turned back to McGonagall.

Much to Faith's surprise, it wasn't McGonagall that spoke…but the hat sitting on the stool. He began voicing a boisterous ditty. Faith nodded with the time of his voice. She smiled and lifted her spoon and her fork and began tapping out a rhythm on her plate and crystal goblet. For several seconds, her beat matched that of the hat…until the article stopped talking and slid around on the stool to regard her. Faith grinned and motioned the hat to continue.

And the hat did. Faith continued to provide basic percussion, much to the delight of the students in the hall. With a select few Slytherin exceptions, the students were enjoying it. Snape stared at her as if he were willing her head to explode. Dumbledore simply bobbed in his seat, happily. Flitwick, Sprout, and Pomfrey followed suit. McGonagall regarded Faith once, but then turned back and sighed. Few of those present noticed her tapping her foot along.

Finally, the song drew to an end. The students clapped and cheered. Faith chuckled and put her silverware down and looked to Dumbledore. “Sorry. Couldn't resist.”

“That's quite alright. Nothing wrong with making things more enjoyable.” He said, giving her a wide smile.

Professor McGonagall began reading the names of new students. Each was then sorted into their respective houses. She made it through her fourth name when a light, but very audible “Hem, hem.” Sounded from the doors of the great hall. “Hem, hem.” The voice said again.

Everyone turned to see a stout woman with a squat face and wearing entirely too much pink. Both Faith and Harry recognized her immediately as “Hem, hem.” She said again to get everyone's attention.

“Madam Umbridge,” Dumbledore said in a wholly welcoming and pleasant tone. “Welcome to Hogwarts. Or I should say Welcome back.” He rose to his feet. “Children may I present Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic.” The students obviously didn't seem to know what to make of the woman's sudden appearance.

If Dumbledore was thrown by her presence, he sure as hell didn't show it.

“What's she doing here?” Hermione asked. “Dumbledore already found a teacher for the DADA position.”

Harry looked at her. “What do you mean?” He asked, curiously. “What does her being here…?”

“The Ministry recently – yesterday in fact – passed Educational Decree number twenty-two. The Ministry can assign staff members to Hogwarts if Dumbledore is unable to find someone.”

“But as you said, he already has.” Ron offered.

“Which begs the question, what is she doing here?” Hermione asked.

“She was at my trial,” Harry said. “And she was…I don't know. She was strange.”

“What do you mean by that?” Ron asked.

“Couldn't tell you,” Harry said to him. He turned to look at Faith. She was staring daggers at the woman. He could also see that Faith was gripping the butter knife on her table extremely tightly, to the point of her knuckles turning white. “She probably intends on following Faith around like the forfeit car in a Top Gear Episode 'Hem, hemming' at her the whole time.”

Ron chuckled. “Until Faith gets sick of it and feeds her that cardigan.”

The thought made all three children smile.

Faith meanwhile leaned over to Dumbledore. “If you want, I can throw her ass out.”

He gave Faith a warm, grandfatherly smile. “That won't be necessary.” He then turned back to Umbridge. “To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” He asked her.

She strode dutifully and purposefully up to the table, offering Dumbledore a folded piece of parchment. “As of today, upon the passing of Educational Decree number twenty-three, I am to be acting as High Inquisitor of Hogwarts. And I've been sent here to observe and report my findings on the educational preparedness of this school. I will be free to observe and take any actions I deem appropriate, by the Minister's orders.”

Dumbledore looked at the document and nodded. “Very well,” He said. “Welcome to what will most likely be a very interesting year.” He motioned to the end of the table. “Please, come, sit.”

“Thank you.” She returned, nodding. She shared a look of…amusement with Faith before moving off and taking her seat.

Faith leaned over to Dumbledore as McGonagall resumed the sorting. “Exactly how much power  _does_  the Ministry have over this school?”

Dumbledore sighed. “They would have to vote on it, but if the people backed them up, as little or as much as they'd like. You saw them at the trial. Cornelius Fudge is…”

“In Lucius Malfoy's pocket.” Faith offered. “I could make her disappear. Make it look like an accident.”

If her offer to remove the toad-like woman bothered him in the least, he didn't show it. In fact, his next words were, oddly more comforting to her than troublesome. “We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, dear girl.”

“Your show, big D.” Faith said.

As the last student was sorted, Dumbledore rose to his feet, threw his arms out wide, smiling cheerfully. “To our newcomers, Welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!”

Faith was shocked when food just miraculously appeared on the tables. Chicken, fish, pork – in the form of ham, tenderloin, bacon, and sausage – beef steaks, roasts of every kind and side dishes all made her mouth water. “Oh…my…god,” She said, her voice filled with wonder. “Come to momma.” She filled her plate to start with fried chicken. It was salty, crispy, greasy and just plain delicious. The meat was tender and juicy and it had a phenomenal flavor.

The rest of the staff gave her a sideways glance as she devoured her first plate and decided on a couple of the steaks. They were perfectly cooked t-bones with just a bit of a herb and garlic crust around the edges. She scooped up a few spoonfuls of potato salad and again went to town. Given a metabolism that moved at the speed of beer at a frat party, she was almost constantly hungry. She was glad to know that the kitchens at Hogwarts ran pretty much twenty-four seven.

After six plates, loaded with meat, veggies and dessert, Faith leaned back, stifling a burp. “That's what I'm talking about.”

“Quite a healthy appetite,” Snape said, looking at her.

“I like to eat.” She looked at his plate and reached out, gripping his arm. “You should really eat a little more protein. And drink some more orange juice. You're paler most vampires I know.”

He stared at her and raised an eyebrow. “I don't like orange juice.”

“What fruit juices do you like?” Faith asked him. She didn't wanna insult him, given that she was going to be working with him. “It's vitamin B-12 and C you need. Some vitamin D wouldn't hurt you either.”

“What are you on about?” Snape asked her.

“Well…you're solid. No arguing that. But you kinda have the whole 'Prince of Darkness' thing going on. Now I understand wanting to look intimidating, but you don't have to be unhealthy to do it. Getting some Vitamin B-12 will give you a bit healthier looking skin, vitamin C will give you more energy and D will help your bones.” She shrugged. “Just put a bit more meat into your diet and suck down some fruit juice. Apple, grape, cranberry, hell grapefruit juice if that's your thing. But I guarantee, you do that and you'll probably feel a lot better. Won't have those massive bags under your eyes, either.” He just glared at her. She sighed and shook her head. “Of course, I'm just a fuckin' muggle. What do I know?” She turned back to her plate, somewhat defeated. She'd  _hoped_  to somewhat make peace with the dour professor. She could plainly see that he wasn't interested.

Snape, for his part, reached for a large glass carafe of pale Apple cider and poured a glass. He then pulled another piece of fish onto his plate and set about eating and drinking. He didn't give her a glance, but she knew the gesture for what it was and it made her feel much better.

When everyone had finished eating, Dumbledore rose to his feet. “Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices. First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students – and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.”

Faith could see Harry, Ron and Hermione share small smirks at one another.

“Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door. We also have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons. And we are also delighted to introduce Professor Lehane, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” There was an eruption of applause and cheer, mostly from the Gryffindor table. None of the Slytherin students seemed at all happy about the announcement. “Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the…”

“Hem, hem,” Umbridge said as she rose to her feet. She was nearly as short standing as she was sitting. It was clear that she was intending to make a speech.

“Hey!” Faith said, leaning forward to glare at her. “Sit your happy ass down, lady. Nobody interrupts the Headmaster when he's talkin'.”

The room in its entirety turned to regard the newest Professor. Everyone understood the political power play that Umbridge represented even if Faith did not. But of all of them, only one knew that Faith  _did_  in fact understand. And Dumbledore knew full well what Faith was doing and knew that it was for his and the other teachers' benefit.

Simply put…Faith was making herself a target. She was bringing all of Umbridge's attention to bear on her alone. And as the toad-like woman's eyes narrowed at her, Dumbledore realized that Faith had done exactly as she set out to.

“I don't see a whole lot of sitting.” Faith said, rising her feet. “Don't make me tell you again.”

For her part, Dolores Umbridge sat back down. Snape leaned closer to Faith as she retook her seat. “You've just made a very dangerous enemy.”

“Wouldn't be the first time.” Faith said, taking a drink of her juice. “Quick question. Do the house elves know how to make coffee?”

“Yes,” Snape said to her. “Quite well, I might add. And a rather amazing assortment of teas.”

“Good. Because if I'm gonna have to deal with students, I'm gonna want coffee, like first thing.” Faith said sitting back. She looked down the table to see Umbridge staring at her as if she were a misbehaving pet. “God, I can't stand that woman.”

“A rather sizable club to belong to, to be sure,” Snape said, softly.

Dumbledore meanwhile continued his start of term speech. He went on about Quidditch tryouts, what parts of the castle to be careful about and what have you.

When he was finished, he turned to Dolores Umbridge. “Madam Umbridge? You had something that you wanted to say?”

The woman rose her feet. “Hem, hem,” She said, before launching into a lengthy speech. “Thank you, Headmaster.” Umbridge began. “Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!” She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. “And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!” Faith noticed that there wasn't a single smiling face in the bunch. “I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!”

Faith watched the students as the woman droned on and on. Her eyes fell to Harry who was rubbing his face in his hands and sighing heavily. She then looked to the twins and saw them whispering conspiratorially with one another. Every so often they would steal glances at Umbridge and whisper some more. Faith grinned. The woman had no idea the kind of time she was in for.

She did, however, listen to Umbridge's words. In the light of what she'd heard the sorting hat sing, what the woman offered was rather poignant. The Ministry had brought her in to spy on the staff members.

If she stepped into the Defense Against the Dark Arts room, she was in for a world of shock.

She finally finished her long, boring speech and took her seat, quite pleased with herself.

Dumbledore then dismissed the group to bed. He leaned over to Faith. “I believe you wished an audience with me and Professor Snape after dinner was finished.”

“Thanks.” Faith said, rising to her feet. She looked at Harry and smiled at him. “I love you.” She mouthed to him.

He gave her a warm smile. “I love you, too,” He said back.

Dumbledore led her and the Potions Master up to his office. Snape remained quiet the whole time. Faith was impressed by the clutter that surrounded her. “Hoarder,” She said, silently to herself.

“What did you wish to discuss with us?” Dumbledore asked as he took his seat behind his massive desk.

Faith sat down beside Professor Snape. “I just wanted to be above board and let Professor Snape know what I did and make sure that it was the right course of action.”

“What did you do?” Professor Snape asked her.

“Well…when we were on the train coming to Hogwarts, I stripped points from Slytherin on account of Draco deliberately abusing his station as a prefect. I also saw him accost several second-year students for no reason. I took fifty points and gave him a week's detention with me.”

Snape was obviously incensed. “You stripped fifty points for a bit of name calling?”

“No. I stripped fifty points because Draco was being an ass. I stripped fifty points to prove a point. That no matter who his daddy is and how close a friend Lucius Malfoy may be to this school, that doesn't give Draco free reign to act however he wants. Make no mistake, if Harry was in Draco's position and pulled that same crap, I'd strip points from him, too. But I know Harry isn't the kind of student that would walk around smacking students and riding their asses when they get mad about it.”

Snape wanted to argue that Draco wasn't like that, but he tended not to lie if he could help it. “I'll give you, Draco Malfoy can be a bit of a bully, but fifty points  _and_ a week's detention is rather excessive.”

“It's an attention getter.” Faith said. “From my read in the landscape, he's just about one of the worst bullies this school has. He's been allowed to get away with everything short of murder because of who his family is.” She shook her head. “I don't care. I got no ties to his father and won't really suffer anything if he gets mad at me. Worst case scenario, I get removed from teaching.” She shrugged. “Don't really matter to me none.”

Dumbledore and Snape were dumbfounded by her complete lack of fear of someone as dangerous as Lucius Malfoy. “Well, you were well within your rights as a Hogwarts Professor to issue the punishment you did. Why did you see fit to come to us with this?”

“Because rumor has it Snape is partial to Slytherin students and would find a way to give Draco back the points I stripped out of sheer spite. I wanted to be certain that wasn't the case.” She looked directly at the Potions Professor. “I want my punishments to mean something.”

Snape sighed and rubbed his face in his hands. “I can't fault you, as much as I'd like to. But the punishments levied should fit the crime. A fifty point loss and a week's detention is incredibly severe.”

Faith looked to Dumbledore. “Is it?”

He nodded. “A bit, yes.”

Faith nodded. “Fair enough.” She turned to Snape. “I'll make a deal with you; I'll drop it to ten points since I didn't really have a frame of reference and one day of detention, provided you don't undermine my disciplining of the students. I promise I won't undermine yours.” She offered her hand. “Agreed?”

He lifted his hand and shook hers. “Agreed.”

“Glad that could be settled. Just needed to understand the scale.”

“I will inform Draco that you had a change of heart, but will be keeping an eye on him,” Snape said.

“Thanks.” Faith said to him.

“Good night, Severus,” Dumbledore said. “Faith, if you would remain for, but a moment.”

The black-clad professor excused himself and left the office, leaving the pair of them alone.

“Come. I'll show you to your classroom. We'll talk along the way.”

Faith followed him as they left the office and made their way along the dark corridors of the castle. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

The elder wizard sighed. “It is about a rather significant elephant in the room,” Dumbledore said. “And it is something I had not thought about much at the time.”

Faith sighed. “Mine and Harry's relationship?” The Headmaster nodded. “Yeah, I know. It's a difficult thing to work around. I'd really like for him to stay with me in my quarters, but I know that's not realistic. At least not on weeknights. The only thing I can promise is that it won't affect my ability to teach the students.”

“What would you do if he showed up at your quarters after hours?” Dumbledore asked her.

“Strip house points for being out after hours.” Faith said.

“Would you tell him to return to his dorm?”

“Eventually.” Faith admitted. “I  _am_  only human.”

“I will make this exception…and  _only_ this.” He said, leaning forward. “When not in classes, the pair of you may spend your free time together. On weekends, as long as you are with him, the pair of you may stay in Hogsmead, but you must be back before dinner Sunday evening.”

Faith smiled brightly at him. “I appreciate that, Headmaster,” She said, happily.

“I understand the joy that is a love found, Faith. Truth be told, there is far too little of it. But at the same time, I need you to maintain your impartiality.”

“He won't get any special treatment. When I'm teaching, he's no more or less important than every other student.” Faith said. “At least, that's what I'm going to try for.”

“I'm glad to hear that.” He entered the classroom and reached over to flip a switch. A large chandelier with what looked like candles on it flared to life. “As you can see, we've had this room wired with electricity.” He turned to Faith. “You can thank young Miss Granger and Professor Snape. They were invaluable in getting what we needed to done.”

Faith, from what she'd seen of the rest of the castle was impressed. “Thanks, I really do appreciate all of this.”

He smiled and showed her the office she would be using. It was sparse but well furnished. It sported a very nice, antique desk with two large chairs in front, a shelf lined with books, and an antique filing cabinet. Like the classroom, it was wired. “I believe this will make you feel a bit more like you belong,” Dumbledore said, moving to the door to her quarters.

Faith walked in and stopped. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. “How…how did you…?” Every piece of furniture from her flat in Surrey had been transported and was set up in the large open stone room. Her bed, her television, her dresser, everything. The only thing she was missing was her appliances. She did notice, with a smile that she had her own coffee maker. It was brand new and looked very high end. “This is awesome.” She turned, threw arms around him and pecked him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

He smiled brightly at her. “You're welcome, Faith. Hogwarts is going to be your home. You should feel comfortable here.” He pointed to the walls.

Faith saw not the paintings that moved and spoke, but movie posters of the old classics. Dracula, Frankenstein's Monster, The Mummy, The Wolfman, Creature from the Black Lagoon and a few others. She was a fan of the classics and was stunned. She moved closer and was shocked even further. Every one of them was an  _original_. “How did you get these?”

“As I have heard muggles say before, I know a guy,” Dumbledore said, happily.

“Thank you,” She said. “I'll make sure nothing happens to them.”

“Welcome home, Faith,” He said, his grandfatherly voice going a long way to make her feel very welcome. “Get some rest. You have a busy day tomorrow.”

Faith nodded as he left the room. She followed him out, turning off the light to the classroom, the office and closing the door to her apartment.

She stripped off her clothes and went into the very ancient bathroom to take a shower. She was pleased as punch to find that the old castle had running water. And amazing water pressure.

She briefly considered sleeping naked, but thought better of it and decided on a pair of boxers and a tank top. She climbed into bed and was out like a light.

In her sleep, she dreamed about the boy with glasses that lay upstairs. Slowly, a smile worked across her face.

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

Faith awoke after having had a night of restless sleep fraught with strange dreams. It started out pleasant enough, but as the night wore on, her mind took a dark turn. She sat up in her bad, a touch saddened that she was alone – something she  _never_  thought she'd live to see – and yawned heavily. She sniffed the air and turned to see a large mug filled with steaming hot coffee sitting on her nightstand. She raised an eyebrow and looked around. “House elves must be some sneaky motherfuckers,” She said as she reached over and lifted the mug. She sniffed it and smiled. “Nice.” She took a sip and was greeted with a heady, full-bodied and slightly nutty flavor. It was, bar none, the best coffee she'd ever had. “Awesome,” She said, setting it down and getting up.

Today was the first day of her lessons, so she decided that she would go for something a bit more flexible. She pulled on a pair of jeans that had some stretch to them and a sleeveless t-shirt. She forewent her customary boots and settled instead on the athletic shoes Harry had bought her. She reached up and brushed her hair before pulling it back in a tight ponytail.

Still sipping the giant mug of coffee, she left her office and headed to breakfast. She started when she saw someone sitting in the classroom at the teacher's desk. It took her a second to realize it was Nymphadora Tonks with her booted feet resting on the desk, her arms crossed over her chest and her head down, asleep. As Faith approached, the woman lifted her head and turned to regard her, blearily. “Hullo Faith,” She said, wiping her eyes. “Or should I say, Professor Lehane?”

“What are you doing here?” Faith asked. “I thought she was trying to get Lupin to be my TA.”

“Can't. Not with Umbridge about. Besides that, Remus is a werewolf. It's the reason he got sacked in the first place.” She rose to her feet. “When he got the owl, both him and Kingsley thought it would be best if I took the role. 'Sides, I can use the training myself. You've seen how clumsy I am.” She added with a bit of a blush.

“Fair enough.” Faith said. “I was headed to breakfast. Wanna tag along?”

“Sure,” She said, stretching.

“How long have you been here?”

“Not long. Hour or so.” Tonks offered as she fell in step beside Faith.

“So what's the real reason Umbridge is here, do you know?” Faith asked her.

“You and Dumbledore, I'd imagine. I haven't heard anything beyond what the rumor mill says. They think Dumbledore is trying to overthrow the ministry, for some reason and your performance at the trial threw them all for a bit of a loop. Word has it Fudge is afraid of you. More so than Dumbledore. So are a lot of the Wizengamot. He sees you as something he can't control. You aren't afraid of his position, his power, his friends or his staff. You have little to no respect for the Ministry.”

“That isn't true.” Faith said. “I have respect for anyone that does their job and puts in an honest day's work. You, Mr. Weasley, Percy Weasley, Kingsley, the whole lot of you. Anyone that isn't in someone's pocket, I got nothin'  _but_  respect for.”

Tonks smiled at that. “Nice to know someone like you can respect someone like me.”

Faith turned to look at her. “You forgetting that you damn near fought me to a standstill?”

“I know bullshit when I hear it, Faith. You weren't comin' at me full stop. I know beyond a doubt that you'd mop the floor with me.” Tonks said, still smiling. “I mean, I can scrap, but it was fear and adrenaline that was keeping me from chomping the floorboards.”

“Don't sell yourself short. You did better than the hardened veteran and the werewolf.” Faith said. “Moody knew who and what I was. Man did his homework and still got caught unawares. Lupin has that whole enhanced senses thing, going. He should have seen or heard me coming. But you, you nearly had your wand out by the time I came around to you. I just got the jump on you. But you didn't back off. You stayed the course and threw down.”

“I was just reactin'. You were so damn fast.” Tonks said, shaking her head. “I'm a little jealous. You may not have magic like we do, but you've still got  _some_.”

Faith really liked the girl. Tonks was just a genuine person. She didn't really hide anything. She was honest, fun-loving and didn't have a problem speaking her mind, regardless who was around to chastise her for it. And Faith loved that about her. “How much authority does Umbridge actually have?” Faith asked.

“She has the power to actually fire Professors,” Tonks said. “It's the authority that the Ministry gave her.”

“Wait a minute.” Faith said, stopping. “If I'm not mistaken, Hogwarts is beyond Ministry control.”

“Was,” Tonks said. “When Educational Decree twenty-three was enacted, the Ministry wrestled control of Hogwarts in its entirety.”

“I'm not gonna be here long, am I?” Faith asked her.

“Probably not,” Tonks said, honestly. “But until she sacks you, you're still the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. And you're still going to do your job.”

“I think I'll just make her disappear.” Faith said. “Know a lot of ways to make getting rid of her look like an accident.” Faith then grinned. “I've got a better idea,” She said, moving off to the side of the hallway. She pulled her cellphone out and dialed a number.

“Good morning, Faith,” Quentin said, his voice rather pleasant. “What seems to be the problem?”

“I'm probably gonna be out of a job by the end of the day.” Faith said.

“Why, what did you do?”

“Nothing yet. I haven't even started classes, yet. But there's some bag here by the name of Dolores Umbridge that's…”

“Been appointed as the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts. Yes, I know. I've already got that taken care of.”

“How's that?” Faith asked.

“I've got the ear of the Prime Minister, my good lady. And he has a soft spot in his heart for both the Council and Hogwarts.” She could tell he was smiling.

“Really?” Faith said. “You know, I don't even know who the Prime Minister is, now that I think about it.”

“David Cameron. And his daughter Florence is actually a potential. Her nanny is also her Watcher. If all goes as planned, he wants his daughter Nancy to attend Hogwarts next year. She's showing signs of magic use.”

“No shit?” Faith said, grinning. “So the man has a vested interest in this place.”

“He does. And when I informed him that a slayer was in charge of Defense Against the Dark Arts, he threw his full support behind you. When I heard what the Ministry was doing, I intervened on your behalf. He's drafted an official letter stating that your appointment to Hogwarts is backed by his office. The Ministry of Magic is still under the control of the British government.”

“So basically, he's saying that  _he's_  the one that wants me here.” Faith said.

“That's correct. You aren't in any danger of removal from the school or your posting unless it comes directly from the Prime Minister himself.” Quentin offered. “He knows the teachers there very well and is willing to go to bat for the lot of them. You needn't worry about Dolores Umbridge or Cornelius Fudge. Neither of them has the authority that they believe they do. The only reason David hasn't sacked them both is because they, while not good at their jobs, are at very least, decent. He was, however, dismayed that Dumbledore turned down the position.”

“Good thing I called you. This shit had me rattled.” Faith said. “Thanks for going to bat for me.”

“Just do your best,” Quentin said. “Have a good day, Faith.”

“You, too,” She said, before ending the call. “That was good news.”

“Who did you call?” Tonks asked, curiously.

“My… _other_  boss, I guess you could say. Apparently my position here is being backed by the Prime Minister of England. I can't be fired by the Ministry.”

“Well, that  _is_  good news,” Tonks said.

They made their way into the great hall to see a few of the teachers sitting at the head table conversing idly. Professor McGonagall was moving about, handing out schedules to the students. Faith had seen her schedule and knew she had a fairly busy day. She quickly looked around to see Harry sitting looking thoroughly miserable. She chanced it and moved over to him. “What's the matter, Harry?”

His face suddenly brightened as he looked at her. “Just the rubbish from the  _Daily Prophet_. Some of the students' parents actually believe what it's said.”

“Par for the course with a smear campaign.” Faith said.

“Is that Tonks?” Hermione asked as the girl moved up and sat at the head table.

“Yeah. Professor Mac let me have a Teacher's Assistant. I wanted Lupin, but Tonks made a good case about her being a better choice. She's a hell of a caster and could benefit from what I have to teach.”

Harry handed her his schedule. “History of Magic, double Potions, Divination and two classes with you.”

Faith saw it and raised an eyebrow. “Professor Trelawney…isn't she that hippy lookin' chick I saw last night with the coke-bottle glasses?”

“That's her,” Hermione said. “Most people think she's a loon.”

Faith shrugged. “Aside from lookin' like she probably did her weight in acid in the seventies, I ain't gonna judge.”

“Have you seen Umbridge yet?” Harry asked her.

“Nope. I'm not worried about her, though.” She looked directly at Harry. “I'm not goin' anywhere. Regardless of what she says.”

He grinned back at her. He was certain that she'd found some way to render the decree made by Fudge impotent. “I'm glad to hear that.”

She patted his shoulder. “I'm gonna go grab some breakfast,” She said. “And don't worry about what people think in the papers. If anyone who claimed to be your friend believes that crap, then you know where you stand with them, don't you?”

“Seamus Finnegan's mom didn't want him coming back to Hogwarts because of Harry. They got into an argument about it and Seamus has been acting like a prat ever since.” Ron said, his tone a touch bitter.

“Which one is Seamus?” Faith asked. Ron pointed him out. Faith nodded and stepped over to the boy. “Seamus Finnegan?” She asked him.

He looked up at her and nodded. “That's me.”

“Quick question. How long have you known Harry?”

“Four years, going on five, why?” He asked her.

“Knowing him as you do, would you say the two of you are friends?”

He shrugged. “I don't know. I mean…we've been classmates the whole time we were here.”

“But are you friends?” She pressed.

“I guess so.” He looked at Harry. “I mean up until last night when he…”

She cut him off. “And knowing what you do about Harry, do you believe what you've read about him in the papers? That he's a liar, looking for press and wanting attention?”

Seamus immediately shook his head. “I don't believe it, but…”

“Come with me.” Faith said, motioning him to follow. “Say that to Harry. He's been kind of ripped up since you two argued last night.”

Seamus sighed. “He said some things.”

“Were any of them true?” Faith asked him.

“I just wanted to know what really happened in the graveyard that night. Everyone's been dying to know, but he won't tell anyone. We only have what we see in the  _Daily Prophet_.”

“And you know their story is bullshit.” Faith observed. As the boy nodded, she shrugged. “Harry saw and experienced something that no boy his age should have had to see. It's still pretty fresh in his mind and he doesn't wanna talk about it. Give him some time and some space and I'm sure he'll let you in. But right now, I want you to get up, go over there and tell him that you don't believe what the Ministry says about him. He could use someone pulling for him right now.”

Seamus nodded, rose to his feet and moved over to the boy. “Harry?” As Harry's bespectacled eyes regarded him, he shook his head. “I just wanted to let you know that I don't believe everything the  _Daily Prophet_  says. I know you better than that.”

Harry's expression softened. “Thanks, Seamus. I didn't mean to say what I did last night. I've just been reading all of that stuff and it has me rattled.”

Not for the first time, Harry wondered where all the anger that had flooded into him last night had come from. When he was with Faith…he sighed. When he was with her, he didn't seem to be angry. He didn't have the dark, foreboding nightmares like those that plagued him the night before. He was happy lying next to her. He'd gone to bed angry and woke up feeling  _tired_ like he'd hardly slept at all.

“I can imagine. Look, just because my mum believes all of that stuff doesn't mean I do.” Seamus held his hand out. “No hard feelings?”

Harry smiled at him and took it. “No hard feelings, Seamus.” The boy nodded and went back to his seat. Harry turned to Faith. “Thank you for doing that.”

“You shouldn't let something like that ruin a friendship.” Faith said, giving him a squeeze of the shoulder. “See you at class.”

Harry watched her walk away and smiled brightly. As they ate, owls swooped into the Great Hall, dropping correspondence for all of the students. Hermione received a copy of the  _Daily Prophet_. “What are you still getting that for?” Harry said, irritably. He couldn't help but think of what Seamus had said. And what his mother believed. “I'm not bothering…load of

rubbish.”

“It's best to know what the enemy is saying,” Hermione said, opening the paper and tucking into it.

Ron looked at Harry and shook his head, indicating that he didn't know why she bothered either.

Neville Longbottom dragged himself into the great hall and fell to the seat beside Ron. “I'm exhausted.” The boy said.

“So…not enjoying life as the new prefect, I take it?” Ron asked.

“I didn't realize it was such hard work,” Neville said. “My grandma was happy for me. Heck, I was happy to get the badge and the letter, but I didn't know it came with so much responsibility.”

Ron clapped him on the back. “You'll get used to it,” He said, happily.

Harry likewise nodded. “You're a good fit for it, Neville.”

After the boys had finished with their food, Hermione closed the paper and dropped it. “Nothing. Nothing about you or Dumbledore or anything.”

“I'm not surprised,” Harry said, grinning. “Faith made a rather serious threat to the whole of the Wizengamot.”

“What did she do?” Hermione asked, warily.

“Threatened to cut their throats in their sleep,” Harry said. “I loved the looks on their faces.”

Ron smiled brightly. “Do you think she'd do it?”

“Obviously,  _they_  do,” Harry said, pointing to the newspaper. He looked up at her and couldn't help but think how lucky he was. Not so long ago, a few months, Faith was on a very, very dark downward spiral. In fact, it was safe to say she'd hit rock bottom.

In that first night, the pair of them had shared so much. Harry wasn't one to believe so much in fate. Despite being treated as he was; abused and neglected, he was fiercely independent. He wanted desperately to be in control of his own life. The problem he had was that everyone, but everyone seemed fit to wrestle that control from him. Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasley, Moody…the lot of them wanted to do nothing but boss him about and tell him what was what. Yes, they did so under the guise of  _protecting_  him, but orders are still orders. While at Grimmauld place, if not for Faith sneaking him out on occasion to go to a club, grab a bite and a show, or just walking the streets of London into the small hours – and facing the full bore of the Order of the Phoenix coming down on her for putting him in danger – he would have gone stir crazy.

She'd taken precautions of course. She put him a pair of nice jeans, a heavy metal band t-shirt and a leather jacket to match hers as well as a bandana around his forehead to hide the scar. And the pair of them just went out on the town.

It was safe to say that Harry Potter very much wished –  _demanded_  – to be the conductor of his own destiny. He just hadn't figured out a way to make it happen.

Then Faith arrived. A happenstance meeting in a park just a month ago had changed, well,  _everything_. She was a broadsword in a world of knives. On first seeing her, first speaking with her, she'd reached down and took hold of something within him. She fanned a flame that had been naught but a smoldering ember into an inferno. She'd given him the strength to stand up for himself. She kept the dark dreams at bay. The crushing weight of despair at being so utterly alone, despite being surrounded by friends and family was less so when she was near him. Last night was the first night that he'd been without her in his arms for a month solid…and he paid for it. Last night taught him one thing.

He and Faith were  _meant_  to find each other. Just as she was his strength, he was her  _purpose_. He had given her something that no one else seemed to.

Understanding. Everyone she'd met in her life never truly seemed to get where she came from, what she'd endured. They all sympathized and pitied, but none of them really, genuinely  _understood_. Unless you came from someplace just as bad, just as loveless and just as broken, you couldn't. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't.

But Harry did. Precisely because he  _had_  been there. To be treated as nothing more than a burden to those around you.

He saw Faith staring back at him, smiling. As their eyes met, he felt a warmth fill him. She was his and he was hers. And heaven help any who tried to sever them.

Faith couldn't help but feel nervous as she paced back and forth in front of the classroom. Students would be traipsing in any minute and she was nervous as could be. Tonks sat with her booted feet on the desk fiddling with her wand. “You keep pacing and you're bound to wear a hole in the floor.”

Faith stopped and looked at her. “I have no idea what I should be doing.”

“You got a lesson plan, right?” Tonks asked her. “Stick to it.”

“But how do I know it's enough?” Faith asked her. “How do I know that what I'm gonna be teaching is gonna be useful?”

“Because you know yourself. You know what you know. And what you  _know_ , you can teach. None of us can match what you can  _do_ , but we can, at least, be instructed on  _how_  you do it. Kingsley always told me there're five parts to every fighter. Training is four parts, application is the fifth. You have to know how to fight before you can start being good at it.”

Faith looked at her for a long moment. “That's pretty damn profound, to be honest.”

“Kingsley's a smart man,” Tonks said. She then pointed to the upper doorways. “Incoming.”

Faith turned to see her first-year students enter the classroom. She could see she had the Ravenclaw students and the Slytherin students together. She sighed heavily as she watched them split down the middle and sit each house to a side. “Gonna have to nip this shit in the bud early,” She said, softly to herself. “Okay. We're gonna start by doing things a little…” She stopped as she watched Dolores Umbridge stroll into the classroom with a clipboard in her hand. She was giving Faith a knowing little smile. Given what Faith had learned this morning, she wasn't wholly worried about the woman. “We're gonna do things a little different in this class. Everyone stand up and line up along the walls. Slytherin students here, Ravenclaw students here.” Faith said, pointing to the left and right, respectively.

“What manner of lesson is this?” Dolores asked, quizzically.

“You're here to observe, right?” Faith asked her.

“That's correct,” She said in return.

“Then shut up and observe. Observers should be seen and not heard.” Faith said. “As I was saying, now I want…”

“Excuse me, but my job is…” Umbridge started.

“You interrupt me again, I'll throw your ass out, now shut up.” Faith said, staring at the woman.

“I don't think you…”

“Tonks get rid of her.” Faith said. “She's screwing up my class.”

The Auror got up and moved over to the woman. “Time to go, Trollbridge,” She said, motioning to the door. The children all giggled.

Dolores was incensed. “It's  _Umbridge_ , thank you very much andI was given this position by the Minister of Magic. I won't be going anywhere.” She was looking directly at Faith. “You're very presence at this school hinges on my…”

She didn't finish the statement. In one fluid motion, Tonks brought her wand out. “ _Stupefy_ ,” She said, sharply. Umbridge hit the floor with an audible  _whump_. She was out cold. Tonks slid her wand into her belt and lifted the hefty woman as though she weighed nothing. “Carry on,” She said as she hauled the woman out of the class. “I'm taking her to the hospital wing.”

“Cool.” Faith said, nodding. All of the kids were impressed with how effortlessly and fast Tonks had dropped the woman. “That's why she's an Auror, boys, and girls. Now…” She began the first step of her class.

When she was finished the class was no longer divided between houses. Each Ravenclaw student was paired with a Slytherin student. She looked on at the sea of disappointed faces. She gave a wide smile. She remembered when she was in school how she was forced to do all kinds of things she didn't really want to. It was somewhat nice to be able to inflict that kind of misery on someone else. It was a horrible thing to think, she knew, but at the moment, she felt a bit justified. “Take a good look at the student you're with now. Because every morning you come in, this is your assigned seat. And the kid from the opposing house that you're with now is going to be your partner for the remainder of the year. They're gonna be your lab partner, your study buddy, and your homework project partner, so I suggest you get comfortable with them. Just because you're in different houses doesn't mean you have to hate each other.”

Tonks came back in and sat down. “Now. Who can tell me what magic is?”

Everyone's hand shot into the air. Faith called on a random Slytherin student. “Go ahead.”

“It's something that we can do that you can't,” He said, snidely. Several of the other Slytherin students laughed. None of the Ravenclaw kids, however, shared in the joke.

Faith offered a chuckle. “Okay. I'll take the shot. He's absolutely right. I can't cast magic. I don't use a wand, I don't know any spells. Hell, I don't even know what most of the spells you all cast are even called.” She hopped off her desk. “Let me show you something. Tonks, if you would please come and stand over here.” She pointed to a spot on the floor. Faith moved ten feet away and waited. Tonks rose and stood where she was asked. “Take your wand out.”

When she did so, Faith turned to the students. “This is Defense Against the Dark Arts.” She made sure everyone heard her. “In this class, you aren't going to learn any spells. Because you'll be learning that from everyone else. Keep that in mind.” She turned back to Tonks. “Pick a spell, any spell.”

Tonks sighed and decided on the stunning charm she'd used on Umbridge. She brought her wand up and was ready to cast…before her wand was pulled from her hand. She'd barely seen the girl move. She wasn't necessarily surprised.

“Now, in one rapid movement…” Faith said, backing away from the Auror and holding up the wand. “She and I are on even footing.” She pointed to the boy that made the statement. “Listen to him, folks, because he's absolutely right. I don't have the ability to cast magic.” She waved the wand in the air. “And now, because of my training,” She pointed at Tonks. “Neither does she.” She looked back at the kid. “Minus one point to Slytherin for being an ass.” She heard the Slytherin students groan and the Ravenclaw students snicker. She tossed Tonks wand back to her. “Guess what?” Faith said, looking at the class. “Minus one point to Ravenclaw. We don't laugh at students getting punished in this class. It isn't funny.” She then smiled. “Okay, what Tonks did to Umbridge was a  _little_  funny.” The students did laugh at that.

“But no one answered my question. What  _is_  magic?” She crossed her arms as a few less students raised their hands. She selected a Ravenclaw student this time. “Go for it.”

“The power of influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces.” The girl said, softly.

“Taken directly from the text.” Faith said. “Shows you know how to memorize stuff.” She began pacing. “But do any of you understand what that said? Do you know what it means?” They looked at her in confusion. Finally, one incredibly shy looking girl – a Slytherin, strangely – raised her hand. “You.” Faith said, pointing.

“Magic is the unknown in practice.” The girl said, simply.

“Good deal. That's it exactly. Who here has stared up at the sky and seen the moon?” Everyone raised their hand. “Who here believes that men have actually been there?”

“That's impossible.” One student snapped quickly.

“One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” Faith said. “Who's heard those words before?” Several students raised their hands. One of them being the student that didn't believe. “July 20th, 1969. Those words were spoken the when Neal Armstrong took his first steps on the moon.” She crossed her arms and looked at them all. “How do you think they did it?”

“Magic, obviously.” Another Slytherin student said.

“Nope.” Faith said. “But, notice where your first thought went? Magic. An undertaking like that could  _only_  be accomplished by magic because magic is all you know. They actually did it in a rocket. But to you all, that seems quite magical, doesn't it? Magic is the unknown in practice.” She pointed to the Slytherin girl. “She hit the nail on the head.”

She sighed and began pacing again. “But enough about Magic.” She looked at the clock. “Time for your assignment.” She went over and lifted a box with folded pieces of paper in it. “It's time you started learning about Defense around the world. In this box is a collection of countries. What I want is for each pair of students to take one of these and tell me which martial art originates from which countries. I made sure that there were texts in the library that have the information. I want four feet – two feet from each of you – due next Monday. I expect a history, notable practitioners and a demonstration of at least  _two_  techniques of the art. And no, meditation and a fighting stance do not count.” She carried the box to the door. “And I've already spoken to your heads of house, so there won't be any sloughing the work off on your partner. The workload should be shared equally. On Wednesday, wear something light. We're studying practical.”

The students walked by and each pair of partners took one and left. A good portion of them was already conversing amongst themselves.

Tonks patted Faith on the shoulder. “You did good,” She said as the last of the first years left.

Faith sighed and took the empty box back down and tossed it in the corner. “One down, four to go.”

For her second and third year classes, she did the same seating arrangement as with the first years. The only class to complain, besides her first years, were the third year class, shared between Slytherin and Hufflepuff.

Faith tailored her lessons for her classes, knowing that the older the kids are, the less they'd be open to new ideas. She gave much the same lecture for the second and third years as she did for the first. Her homework assignment was a bit more extensive, assigning the second years a list of iconic heroes, both muggle, and wizard and give them thirty inches per student. They were, of course, free to divide the labor as they saw fit. Third years were given a choice of supernatural beasties, allowing them pick one and required thirty-six inches per partner on the full workup on the beasts, including most common methods of killing them.

The fourth years, she shortened her lecture and taught the students about simple spells that could be used offensively in the right context. She then gave the students a list of ten random spells – five per student – and asked for them to list two ways each spell could be used offensively. In each class, she demonstrated on how not being able to use magic didn't render her defenseless to spell casting. She pointed out that, in fact, it seemed to make her, even _more_ dangerous.

Finally, it was time for lunch. Faith was starving. “God, I'm hungry,” She said as she and Tonks left the classroom behind the students.

No sooner than she stepped out of the room then Dolores Umbridge stared at her with a smug smile. “You seem happy.” Faith said, looking at her. “Big sale on flies at the pet shop?”

Umbridge furrowed her brow, but Tonks caught the joke and laughed heartily. “I'll see you at the Great Hall.”

When Tonks was out of earshot, Faith turned narrowed eyes back to Umbridge. “Look. I know why you're here.”

“Do you?” She asked, an amused look on her face. “Do tell.”

“Because Fudge is a pussy. He's a chicken shit that is doing everything he can to discredit Dumbledore to make himself look better. He sent you here to spy on all of us and to get rid of us one by one so Hogwarts can be strictly and firmly under Ministry control.”

“Faith, dear?” She beamed happily. “Hogwarts already  _is_  under Ministry control. You see, you may be tough and able to beat Dementors to a pulp, but I ultimately control your fate here at Hogwarts. I have the authority to terminate your employment.” Her smile took on a slimy quality. “And I'm doing just that. As of this moment, you're no longer teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Umbridge sounded so pleased with herself. “I've already sent an owl to the Minister. He'll be owling me back before lunch is over with the official notice.”

Faith smiled at her and patted her cheek. “You think you have power. That's adorable.” She stepped around the woman and walked away. “Until Dumbledore tells me I'm no longer the Professor, I'm gonna keep on keepin' on. And you can stand there in your pink cardigan and dream of what you'll never have.” Faith turned to look at her. “A purpose in life.”

With that, she left. Leaving Umbridge to stand there…and continue smiling smugly. “Oh, how I long to see the look on her face when she's being thrown out on her ear.”

Faith heard her but said nothing. To be honest, she was a little worried. At least, she was until she made her way back to her classroom to prepare it for the fifth year class. Dolores Umbridge sat at her desk…fuming. “I don't know how you managed to do it…”

Faith grinned. “Any luck getting me fired?”

“I owled the Minister.” She lifted the parchment that was sent back. “He informs that only two people in the entirety of the British Isles has the authority to terminate your employment. Dumbledore…and the Prime Minister himself.” She dropped the paper on the desk. “You  _will_  tell me how you managed that.”

Faith could just tell the woman to leave and not to sully her classroom again, forcibly removing her if necessary. Or she could just…be honest. She decided on honesty. “It's actually really simple. Being what I am, a slayer, I'm under the employment of a group known as the Watcher's Council. They wanted me to be here, so here I am. You see, my boss, my Council boss, reads the  _Daily Prophet_  and knows what kind of bullshit you people are printing. He knows that you're running a smear campaign and that none of it's true. They've had witches –  _real_  witches – keeping track of Voldemort's movements for years. As soon as he found out that you lot were trying to undermine Dumbledore and screw with the school, they stepped in and got everyone in this school full backing of the Prime Minister's office.” Faith shook her head. “And from what I've been given to understand, the Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot still have to answer to the British government. And considering that David Cameron wants his daughter to attend here next year, he'll be  _damned_  if he lets you or anyone else fuck with the place.”

“And how do you know all of this?” Umbridge asked.

“Don't worry about it. In the meantime, you can stand around with your little clipboard and make all the notes you want. But none of it is going to mean a damn thing. Nothing you say, nothing you do, no one you owl is going to make a damn bit of difference. You're just an annoying little boot-lick that isn't worth the breath it takes to curse your name or the saliva it takes to spit on you.” Faith walked over to her. “Now get the fuck outta my class.”

Umbridge stared up at her. “If I were to refuse, what would you do, hm? Beat me? Thrash me?”

“And enjoy every goddamn second of it.” Faith said. “Now go. I won't tell you again.”

“Enjoy this little victory, Faith. For it is…” She didn't get a chance to finish.

Faith slapped her hand over the woman's mouth. “For fuck's sake, shut your damn mouth. Christ.” She grabbed her by the back of her pink cardigan and dragged her to the hallway and threw her to the floor. “Stay the hell out of my classroom.”

Umbridge flew to her feet – which impressed Faith, to be honest, given the woman's dimensions – and leveled her wand. She stopped, her eyes wide as she felt the cold Goblin-forged steel of Faith's knife under her neck. “Would you, Faith?” She asked. “Could you?”

Faith grinned like a skull. She let out a soft, menacing chuckle. “Wanna find out?” She pressed blade in. “You wouldn't be the first person I've killed.” She cocked her head. “Come on, Dolores. You did your homework on me. I'd like to think you were a smart woman. What did you read? Did you ever find out what I did that made the Watcher's Council wanna hunt me down and kill me?” She paused. “What am I capable of, Miss Umbridge?” She stepped closer. “How much have I  _really_  changed?”

Students had gathered around the pair of them, watching in awe, horror, and morbid fascination. Tonks was keeping them back from the pair. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all flabbergasted by the display.

Umbridge saw all the children around and played an ace. “So you admit that you're a murderer, then?”

Faith wasn't afraid of her past. She nodded. “Damn right I am. That's what makes me perfect to teach this class. Who better to teach them how to defend against the nightmares in the dark…than someone who used to  _be_  one?” Faith stepped back and spun her knife in her hand before sheathing it. “Go home, Dolores. You don't belong here.” She turned and began walking into the classroom.

“ _Stupefy_!” Umbridge shouted, aiming her wand at Faith.

Time slowed to a crawl. Faith was caught completely unawares by the spell. She'd honestly believed that she'd intimidated the woman enough that she would simply slink off to lick her wounds. She was gravely mistaken.

Tonks was already in motion. She was reaching for Umbridge's arm to smack her wand from her grip.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all reaching for their wands.

As time returned to normal, Faith took the full brunt of the spell directly in the back. “Faith!” Harry screamed as he finished pulling his wand free.

Tonks tackled Umbridge to the ground, wrestling the woman's wand from her.

Hermione and Ron both had their wands out and pointed and Umbridge, still not entirely sure what they would have done.

To everyone's shock…Faith was still standing. She flexed her back and stepped over to Umbridge. She reached down and gripped her by the front of her pink cardigan with a single hand, and held her aloft as if she weighed nothing. Her feet dangled from the ground. She simply stared into the woman's eyes and at that moment, showed Dolores Umbridge  _exactly_  what  _true_  power was. “If you EVER attack me again, I will kill you, do you understand me?” When she didn't immediately answer, Faith slammed her back against the wall. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?” She screamed into the woman's face, causing everyone to start.

Dolores Umbridge, the fear of  _GOD_  in her eyes, nodded. Faith let her go and went back into the classroom. “Let's go,” Tonks said, angrily. She took Umbridge's arm and led her to the Headmasters' Office.

Faith moved to her desk and leaned against it. She decided that she could use this to her advantage with today's lesson. “Boys and girls? Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts. First, I'm gonna shake things up a bit…”

Harry was really,  _really_  not happy. Neither was Ron  _or_  Hermione. Seated beside Harry was Draco Malfoy. Both of the boys were sour-faced and were staring daggers at Faith. Harry would definitely be having a talk with her after class. Ron was seated next to Blaise Zabini and, like Harry and Draco wasn't the least bit happy about it. Hermione, on the other hand, was upset but decided to make the best of it. Pansy Parkinson was a shrew and a terrible person, but she was a knowledgeable witch that did quite well in all of her coursework. Her manners aside, she was smart, and wouldn't let anything get in the way of her success. The girls stared at each other a moment and offered a slight nod. Their truce had begun.

Faith watched the collection of horrified, angered and bemused faces. “Remember where you're sitting and who you're partnered with. They're going to be with you through the rest of the term.” She began pacing the class. “I know you are all wondering why I've done this. The reasoning is very simple.” She stopped and looked at them all. “Unity.” She moved over and stood beside the wall and lifted her hand. She lowered each finger as she spoke. “The staff and teachers, those that guide and prepare. Slytherin; the drive to be the best at any cost. Gryffindor; the courage to face down whatever comes and shrug it off. Hufflepuff; loyalty and drive to get down and dirty to see everything stays the course. Ravenclaw; the intelligence and brainpower to pull it all together.” She held up her fist. “Five parts. One cause…” She turned and drove her fist into the wall, flowering the stone. “Can accomplish far more than they could apart. So I want you to start burying your prejudices and your hatreds. Because in this class, you're going to have to  _rely_  on each other. I'm gonna make damn sure of that. You're gonna have to trust each other.”

They all looked at their partners. Very, very few of them seemed enamored with the idea. Faith knew she was taking a risk, especially with students of this age. But she knew what was coming, as did Harry, Ron, and Hermione. She needed to get them prepared and by doing her part to break down the walls, she hoped she could do just that.

“Now, did everyone see what happened in the hallway?” She asked. “When Umbridge used that spell on me, what happened to me?” She shook her head. “Nothing. It didn't drop me. Why?” Harry raised his hand. “Go head, Harry.”

“Because you're a slayer. You're meant to take things like that and not get hurt.” He said to her.

“Exactly right.” Faith said. “But as you can see, Umbridge didn't know that. She wasn't prepared. All the magic in the world didn't do her any good because it didn't work.”

Given that Tonks had taken off with Umbridge, Faith needed a volunteer. “Um…Goyle. I'm given to understand that you've trained as a wrestler, is that right?” He gave her a nod. “You wanna come down here for me?” He rose to his feet and dutily stepped to the floor. “It's all about preparedness and training.” She looked to Goyle. “Hold out your wand. Keep a tight hold on it so I can't get it from you, okay?” He nodded and waited, keeping his hand firm around his wand.

Faith looked at the class. “Now, pay attention. He has wrestling training. Which means upper body strength, balance, and hand-eye coordination. Remember that.” She looked at Goyle as she walked over to him. “You ready?” He nodded to her.

Faith didn't move anywhere near her fastest…but then she didn't have to. She stepped past him, dropped her right foot behind his leg and took him to the ground with ease. She then pulled his wand free. She stepped back and turned to the group. “Now, did you see what I did there?” She moved over and helped the boy back to his feet and gave him back his wand. “Thank you, Goyle.” He moved sheepishly to his seat. “In the real world, when you're dealing with dark wizards, paranormal beasts or a jealous boyfriend because you just lip-locked his girl and she didn't say she even  _had_  a boyfriend…” That earned a chuckle from a lot of students. “It isn't going to be cut and dry. It isn't always gonna go down the way you expect. Even with the wrestling chops, Goyle was caught unaware. You have to have a backup plan in place. Always. When you're getting ready to throw down, you gotta be thinking  _what if_? Umbridge didn't do that. She just expected to cast her spell and drop me. She wasn't prepared for her spell not working.”

She leaned against her desk. “Who here can tell me what a good plan would have been for Umbridge?” She saw both Hermione and Pansy's hands shoot into the air. They both looked at each other.

“Both of you, stand up.” Faith said. The girls both rose to their feet. “Pansy give me one, then Hermione.”

“She should have done more research on you. Found a spell that she  _knew_  would work.” Pansy said.

“True. Very true.” Faith said. “Granger?”

“Been wise and left it alone,” Hermione said. “She wasn't thinking long term. Even if she did manage to stun you, what would have been served by it? You'd have woken up and torn her limb from limb.”

Pansy looked at Hermione. “That's precisely why she  _should_  have found a more successful spell and hit Professor Lehane with it. So we could all bask in the joy of the woman being torn asunder and being tossed into the forest to feed the fell beasts that dwell there.”

“And give all the poor creatures horrible indigestion in the process,” Malfoy said, snickering. The rest of the class – all of them – followed suit.

Faith smiled. “I'm not hundred percent sure you wouldn't enjoy the idea of watching me get magically slapped around there, Parkinson.”

Pansy gave her smirk. “I never said that,” She said, sitting back down.

“But both girls are right. Umbridge should have left it alone and screwed off. Barring that, she should have done her homework a bit better. The point is this. When it gets down to it, you've only got one shot. You'd best make it count. You don't manage to drop your opponent in one shot, it's getting close and personal. That's what I'm going to teach you this term.” She looked at her watch. “Alright. Everyone go ahead and leave your books and your packs here. We're going for a hike.”

She spent the rest of the first hour just jogging around the lake. She informed them that this was what they would be doing for the first hour of class. Running and exercise. Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't seem to mind it too much. A few of the other kids were okay with it as well. But a majority of them were gassed very, very quickly. She wasn't worried. The endurance would come.

The second hour of the class would be learning various basic forms of self-defense. She would scale them up gradually. Tonks found them and jogged alongside.

Strangely, Faith didn't hear the complaints she thought she'd hear. She didn't hear that this wasn't teaching them anything. Mostly what she got was a lot of heavy breathing and panting.

She smiled as she ran on. She was actually enjoying herself.

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

Faith made her way up to Dumbledore's office as per the message she'd been given. As soon as classes had ended on her first day, she'd been ordered to a meeting with the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress. She was fairly certain she knew why. She made it to the gargoyle and spoke the password she'd been given.

She stepped onto the stairs that revealed themselves and waited as they lifted her up into the cluttered office of the Headmaster.

As soon as she rose into the room, she recognized Dumbledore's wizened form. Seated before him were Professor McGonagall and Dolores Umbridge. None of the three of them looked happy. Nymphadora Tonks stood at the side of the room with her arms crossed. Faith noticed that, instead of wearing her typical garb, she was clad in her Auror's uniform. That caught her attention.

“Faith please,” Dumbledore said, motioning to a chair. “If you'd kindly have a seat.”

“Sure.” Faith said, settling down into the comfortable armchair. “So what's up?”

“How was your first day of class?” He asked, disarmingly.

“I think it went pretty well. I guess you've heard that I mixed things up a bit.” Faith offered. “Gonna be an interesting year.”

He nodded lightly. “Indeed, it will. Professors Snape, Sprout, Flitwick and McGonagall here have all brought as much to my attention.” He bit his lip. “I'm inclined to ask what prompted such a radical exercise?”

Faith raised a hand. “This is how I explained it to them. You currently have a school divided.” Again she lowered her fingers and thumb as she spoke. “The staff for guidance. The drive of Slytherin, the courage of Gryffindor, loyalty of Hufflepuff, and the gray matter of Ravenclaw.” She formed a fist. “Put it together and you have something that can, with the right training and discipline smash stone. What's more effective? A slap to the face?” She opened her hand then again clenched her fist. “Or a right cross to the jaw?”

“You act as if these children are facing a war,” Umbridge said, snidely.

Faith looked at her. “You act as if you're trying to cover one up.”

“The Ministry does not believe the lies that…”

“No one gives a squirt of piss what you think, Trollbridge.” Faith said, using Tonks' name for the woman. “You're nothing but a Wizengamot lackey. When we wanna know what you think…we'll owl  _them_.”

“That'll be enough of that,” Dumbledore said to Faith. “Dolores is here as a duly recognized representative of the Minister of Magic and, as such, will be afforded all of the respect due her.”

“I  _am_  treating her with all the respect she's due. Given she hasn't earned any, especially from me, I don't see her being due all that much.” Faith returned. “She's lucky I don't rip her head off and shit down her neck for the crap she pulled in my classroom this afternoon.”

“That's what we'd like to discuss if we may.” Professor McGonagall began. “Is it true that you threatened Miss Umbridge's life?”

“Damn right I did.” Faith said, unabashedly. “Bitch wanted to come at me with her wand. I got the drop on her and had my blade at her throat.” She could see both Dumbledore and McGonagall turn angered eyes toward Umbridge. “Oh, she conveniently forgot to mention that part, didn't she?”

“Care to explain yourself, Dolores?” Dumbledore asked, his tone soft. His eyes, however, were anything but.

“Professor Lehane had manhandled me at that point. I was merely reacting to her displayed violence.” Umbridge offered in her small voice. “She is a being of violence and I only wished to negotiate on her level.”

“Lady? You ain't even capable of approaching Faith's level of violence.” Tonks offered from the side of the room. “As you said, she's a being of violence. You're a squat toadie that carries a wand and struggles with anything more difficult than first-year jinxes. If Faith seriously wanted you dead, we wouldn't be having this conversation.”

“That's enough, Tonks,” Dumbledore said, looking to the young Auror. He was struggling not to snicker. It took some effort, it had to be said. “Dolores. Did you pull your wand with the intention of harm toward Faith?”

“Only after she…”

He cut her off. “I asked a very specific question, Miss Umbridge. It requires only a simple yes or no answer.”

She swallowed and looked at Faith. “I would have only used a minor jinx. Surely nothing that would warrant a death sentence.”

“I don't know that.” Faith said. “I'm told there are spells people can throw at me that could kill me outright. How was I supposed to know you weren't gonna use one of those?”

“You're talking about the unforgivable curses and those are highly illegal,” Umbridge said, sharply.

“So is being a Death Eater, but that doesn't stop a lot of people from actively being one, now does it?” Faith asked. “Just ask the Minister's pal Luscious Malfoy.”

Tonks belted out a laugh and slapped her hand over her mouth to conceal the rest of her laughter. McGonagall cleared her throat in an effort not to snicker. Dumbledore's mustache and beard twitched.

“I believe you are speaking of  _Lucius_  Malfoy,” Umbridge said, snidely.

“Nah. He's Luscious. A man with hair and a face like that? Looks like the front man for a washed-up eighties boy band. He's Luscious. Besides that he seems like the kind of guy that would be in his thirties singing about bangin' high school age chicks.”

“Lucius Malfoy is  _not_  a Death Eater. He was bewitched by the Imperious Curse and forced to serve the Dark Lord against his will. He was cleared of all wrongdoing.” Umbridge said, matter of fact.

“Given that the Ministry is a group of the most corrupt motherfuckers on the planet that doesn't surprise me in the least.” Faith said, leaning back in her chair.

“And I suppose the Muggle government…” Umbridge began.

Faith cut her off. “Is just as twisted and corrupt as it gets. Not sayin' they ain't. But Luscious Man-toy is a fuckin' terrorist. Pure and simple. American government ain't got time or resources to waste on trying a terrorist. If you're suspected, you get a one-way trip to Gitmo. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. Then they sick the dogs on you. Trust me, no matter how violent or mean Moldy-butt might be, he don't even compare to bored Marines with a license to learn what they need to learn through any means necessary. These are the kind of guys that place bets on how long it takes for an inmate to soil himself under  _forceful interrogation_.” She smiled. “Our boys are so good at getting information they could have that white haired drag queen copping to the Kennedy assassination.”

“Anyone would confess to anything under constant torture,” Umbridge said. “We in the Ministry are quite a bit more civilized than that.”

“This coming from the people that are printing a smear campaign against a fifteen-year-old boy because they're afraid of him.” Faith said. “Yeah. Real fuckin' civilized.”

“Alright, that's enough. Dolores. In light of the fact that you first threatened Faith by attempting to draw your wand…”

“She dragged me from her classroom and threw me to the floor!” Umbridge shrieked. “I demand that she be dispelled from her position as Professor immediately. I will not be manhandled!”

“Are you quite through?” McGonagall snapped. “Now be quiet.”

Umbridge was furious but remained silent.

Dumbledore sighed. “Faith? Did you do as she states? Did you drag her bodily from the room?”

Faith nodded. “Yes, I did. I had a class to prepare for and she wouldn't leave. I didn't have time to sit there and argue with her. I told her to get out. She asked if I'd be willing to drag her ass out and I said yes. She just kept yammering away so I chucked her ass to the curb. Way I figure it, she had ample opportunity to split and didn't. Not my fault she's retarded.”

“Despite her rather colorful vernacular, Faith raises a valid point,” Dumbledore said, looking to Dolores. “She afforded you every opportunity to leave the classroom and informed you of what she would do if you failed to do so. You can hardly get angry at her for doing as she stated she would do.”

“So that's it?” Umbridge said, angrily. “She can just throw people about?”

“Stop being a petulant child, Miss Umbridge.” McGonagall shot forth. “You sound like a first-year student griping about missing her mum.”

Dolores turned her narrowed eyes toward the woman. If the expression bothered the hardened Transfigurations Professor, she showed no sign of it.

“I am dismissing your allegations outright,” Dumbledore said. “Furthermore, I am sending an Owl to Minister of Magic informing him that you are physically threatening my staff without just cause.” He looked to Faith. “Thank you for coming to see me. I understand this was an inconvenience for you, given how much you still have to do.” He sighed. “But can you please try and curb the violent tendencies? Despite how you may feel about her, Dolores is here at the Minister's behest and as long as he remains as such, she will be afforded at least a modicum of respect.”

Faith rose to her feet and nodded. “Understood.” She turned and looked at Umbridge. “Sorry for drawing steel on you. You and Tonks are both right. I'm a girl of action. Violence was my first answer to everything for a long time. Some habits are really hard to break, but they still need to be broken.” She kept eye contact with the woman. “You can come by my classroom anytime to observe. But I'm a very physical and talkative Professor. So you just need to keep the disruptions to a minimum, deal?” She offered her hand. “No hard feelings?”

Umbridge just glared up at her. She didn't take Faith's hand. Nor did the slayer expect her to. She sighed and looked at Dumbledore. “I tried.” With that, she left the room with Tonks in tow.

“She's gonna be a hell of a thorn in your side,” Tonks said as they walked back to the DADA room.

“Probably. Not really worried about it.” Faith said. She then turned to the girl. “Is what you said about her true? Is she not really all that powerful?”

“Umbridge is barely above a squib. She can do some minor spells, but in the grand scheme of things, she's not got a lot goin' on.”

“Good to know.” Faith said, grinning. She unlocked the classroom and made her way into her office. She relaxed, looking over the lesson plan for the next week. A rather loud knock on her office door stole her attention. “Yeah. It's open.” She said, looking up as someone walked in.

Harry, with a rather dour look on his face, stepped into the room, securing the door behind him. She noted his expression and wasn't the least bit surprised. She knew this was coming. “Hey, baby,” She said, leaning back in her chair. “Did you enjoy class?”

Harry took a seat and stared at her. “Did I do something to make you cross with me?”

Faith smiled and got up, moving around the desk. She eased down into the chair, straddling Harry's lap. “Let me guess. Why did I pair you up with Draco?”

Harry rested his hands on Faith's hips. “I'd like to say the question crossed my mind, but that's bullocks. It's all I've been thinking about since this morning. You know I can't stand him. He's a bloody prat.”

Faith nodded her agreement. “Kid's a douchebag and a half, I'm not gonna lie. But when you get right down to it, with what's comin' our way, we need all the help we can get. Having this whole inter-school rivalry shit has gotta stop. I know I can't change shit overnight, but maybe I can, at least, lessen it, you know?”

“You have no idea how horrible he's been to me over the past four years. What you've seen is the tip of the iceberg. I've had to deal with him for four bloody years. He's such a poncy git that it defies imagination. And I go to school in a magical castle with moving staircases and talking paintings. I have a pretty wild imagination.” Harry said, exasperated. “Not to mention what his father did to me.”

“I get you don't like the kid, Harry. I really do. But I'm not gonna let you blame Draco for who his daddy is. It ain't the kid's fault.” Faith's tone was a tad sharp. “Draco's a lot like his father, but he  _isn't_  Lucius. He's still young and can still learn shit. He's not so set in his ways that he can't appreciate new things.”

“But I just…” Harry growled. “I hate him.”

“Let me ask you this.” Faith said, resting her forehead against Harry's. “Who do you hate worse, Draco or his father?”

Harry closed his eyes and thought about it. For the past four years, just as he'd said, he'd been a target of Draco's bullying and ire. Not exclusively, but enough that he'd formed a very,  _very_  strong hatred of the boy. The remarks, the arguments, the constant irritation that Draco had presented himself as was enough to turn Harry's stomach.

But for all of Draco's childish antics and dim-witted plots to get him into trouble, Harry wasn't afraid of him.

Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand, scared the shit out of Harry. He was a powerful man with a lot of connections and enough money to make the wizarding world bend over backward for him. Yes, Harry's wealth was more than equal to the Malfoy dynasty, but he wasn't the schemer and plotter that the Malfoy patriarch was.

It was safe to say who Harry disliked more. Fear won out over annoyance. “Lucius,” He said. “Draco's father.”

Faith nodded. She'd figured at much. “Then think about this,” She said. “How badly would it piss Lucius off if his son was friends with Harry Potter?”

“You're crazy if you think Draco and I could ever be friends.” Harry snorted.

“Okay, maybe not friends, but the two of you speaking civil to each other? Having a conversation that doesn't end up in a fistfight?”

“Draco and I've never gotten into a fistfight,” Harry said. “Not for lack of wanting.”

“I see you cleaning his clock to be honest. Getting smacked around by Dudley has taught you how to take a punch. Though Crabbe and Goyle might be a problem.”

“I could just sick Ron on them,” Harry said, snickering. “He's got five older brothers. He's faced two on one odds before.”

Faith didn't bring up the fact that Crabbe and Goyle both had actual combat training and Ron, by and large, didn't. “My point is Lucius Malfoy would be beside himself if you and Draco began hitting it off.”

Harry sighed heavily. “I'll try.” He offered his voice low. “That's the best I can do.”

Faith shrugged. “That's all I'm asking. Give it a serious attempt. Draco's an asshole, but he also understands the value of doing well on his coursework. And the pair of you are going to  _need_  to work together to pass my class.”

“I know,” Harry said, sadly. “That's what I'm afraid of.”

She leaned down and kissed him. She then rose to her feet and locked the door to her office. “Office hours are over,” She said, smiling. “We got about an hour until dinner.” Harry swallowed and watched her slink toward him provocatively. “And I missed you last night something fierce,” He noted the look in her eyes.

Faith noticed, over the course of the next day, that Umbridge didn't bother taking her up on her offer to sit in on her classes. She wasn't necessarily surprised.

Wednesday came about and Faith was again at the front of the classroom as her fourth-year students came in. She leaned against her desk while Tonks sat in the chair with her feet up watching as everyone piled into the room. Faith raised an eyebrow as she noticed one of her students barefoot. She waited for the kid to be seated before she addressed the issue. “Um… Luna?” She asked.

The blonde looked at her with a soft somewhat whimsical expression. “Yes, Professor Lehane?”

“What happened to your shoes?”

“The Nargles stole them,” Luna said gently. If the fact that her shoes were missing bothered her, she showed absolutely no indication of it. “They're crafty, they are.”

“Um…” Faith looked around the room at the gathered faces. “What the hell is a Nargle?”

“A myth.” One of the other Ravenclaw students said. “She's infatuated with them. That's why she wears that ridiculous necklace. She seems to think that it will protect her from them.” He looked at her. “She's such a dimwit.”

Luna paid the boy no mind. “Most people don't believe them to be real. That allows them to move about and take things. Like my shoes.”

Faith admired Luna's conviction. In the world she lived in, most people didn't believe in vampires and demons either. But that disbelief didn't make them any less real. It also allowed vampires to operate freely in the night, drinking from who they wanted to and not having a care in the world. If they didn't exist, they couldn't get caught. Thus, the papers in cities like Sunnydale, New York, and Los Angeles were filled with obituaries of people that died of 'neck rupture' or 'extra-carotid exsanguination'.

Faith decided to play the students at their own game. “I'm a muggle girl. Don't really know a lot about Nargles and what have you. You all – Miss Lovegood notwithstanding – are telling me that Nargles, by and large, don't exist, am I correct?” The students all nodded their heads. “Okay. Then, let me ask…” She grinned. “What happened to Luna's shoes?” The room got quiet. “I mean, she says the Nargles took them. If that's the case, then it's no one's fault and it was just bad luck. But if what all of  _you_  are saying is the truth, then someone in Ravenclaw stole them. And that's a punishable thing. So which is it, boys and girls? Did the Nargles take them or did someone steal them?” No one answered. There were, however, a few chuckles among the students. Faith turned and looked at Tonks. The girls shrugged at her, smiling. “Okay. This is what we're going to do. Since all of you are in on it, minus Luna herself, I'm deducting one hundred points from Ravenclaw.” The students began whining and moaning. “Per student.” Faith finished.

“That's not fair!” One boy shouted. “I didn't do anything.”

“You didn't stop anything, either. This is about house unity. I'll give the points back if the person who took her shoes fesses up to it right now.” Faith said. She gave the count of five then shook her head. “You had your chance. That's minus nine hundred points from Ravenclaw. You all can kiss that house cup goodbye.” She again counted out five seconds. “Still no takers? That's fine with me. Looks like we're all going for a run. Luna, doll? You can stay here with Professor's Assistant Tonks. Give me twelve inches on what you know about Nargles, including how to spot them, how to protect against them, things like that, okay?” The girl nodded. “Gryffindors? Why don't you all take the class and practice a few of the spells I had you work on last class period? And you can take a few minutes and polish up your homework assignment.”

The Ravenclaw students grumbled and groaned as she led them outside for a class period of running.

By the end of the class, the shoe thief had been identified. Faith decided to be nice and only take fifty points from Ravenclaw for the theft, but she didn't bother telling the students that. She did, however, give the boy detention to be served with Professor Snape. The boy was almost crying by the time she got them back inside.

Lunch came and went and again it was time for her lessons with the fifth years. With a bit of complaining and griping, the students took their assigned seats. Harry sat down beside Draco. “Any idea what today is going to be like?” He asked the young Malfoy heir.

“How the bloody hell should I know, Potter? You're the one shagging her. If anyone, you would know better than I would.” Draco snipped.

Harry wanted to lash out but didn't. “She's actually quite attractive, isn't she?” He asked Draco. “I mean look at the long thick brown hair. Those long legs, that tight round bottom. She's very fetching.” He looked at Draco. “Am I right? If you agree, I'm not going to be cross.”

Draco, for his part, did look Faith up and down. Muggle or not, she was definitely pretty. “She's rather easy on the eyes, I'll admit. A lot finer to look at than the last four professors to come through this class.”

“She likes to dance,” Harry said. “Did you know that?”

“Looks like she'd be good at it,” Draco said.

“Can I ask you a question, Draco?” Harry turned to look the blonde boy in the eyes.

“I suppose so.”

“Did I ever do anything to make you hate me?” Harry asked, simply.

For a long moment, Draco just looked at him. He had to think hard about what to say. “No. I mean not  _really_.” Malfoy said, softly. “I guess…It's just you make it so easy to pick on you. I don't pick on people if they don't respond, but you, Potter. You rise to it each and every time. That sort of makes it easy for me. It makes it enjoyable.”

Harry listened to him and couldn't help but feel like a complete fool. “So…what you're saying is that I, largely bring it upon myself?”

Draco shrugged and nodded. “Sort of, yeah.”

Harry gazed into Draco's eyes for a moment then laughed out loud. “Bloody hell,” He said, amid his guffawing. He recovered quickly and wiped his eyes. “I suppose one wouldn't eat chocolate if you didn't like the taste.”

“I like chocolate,” Draco said.

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled free a chocolate frog. “I have some chocolate.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “Give me your chocolate, Potter.”

Harry held it away from him and gave a like glare. “What do I get for it?”

“I…” Draco began. “I'll stop picking on you for a week.”

Harry mulled it over while rubbing his chin. “Deal,” He said, offering the frog to Draco. The boy tore into it, gobbling the frog up quickly.

Faith watched the exchange and smiled brightly. She looked on at the rest of the class. Some of the students had indeed taken the arrangement between the houses in stride. Pansy and Hermione were sitting with their heads together going over everything in their notes. The pair shared a very easy truce. They even looked almost friendly. Ron and Blaise, however, were anything but. The pair didn't even so much as look at each other.

She started off by collecting the homework assignments. The group then filed out of the room to go jogging for the first hour. Instead of returning to the classroom, the group entered the great hall. Sitting on the tables were several large tankards of ice cold water. The students winded and tired downed the cold beverages happily.

“Now it's time for a little…” She stopped when Dolores Umbridge entered the hall to lean against the back wall with her clipboard firmly in hand. Faith gave her a nod. “It's time to learn a little practical.” Tonks waved her wand and the tables slid to the sides of the room. “Did everyone remember to wear something comfortable under your robes?” The students nodded and began taking off the heavy black garments.

Shorts and short sleeved shirts abounded. Faith noted with a subdued smirk that Harry, Ron and strangely, Neville were three of the most well-built students in the class. Draco, for the first time since knowing Harry Potter…was intimidated. He'd never had the opportunity in the past four plus years to see Harry in anything but his wizarding robes. Now, clad in nothing but black shorts and a black tank top, he could see that the boy who lived was as solid as cold rolled steel.

He averted his eyes and glanced over and Ron Weasley. It was obvious that, where Draco would spend his summers with his family traveling abroad, the Weasley boy spent his time working. He had five older brothers that were constantly at odds, fighting, wrestling and tending the massive plot of land that the Weasleys scratched out their living on. And as such, Ron was thickly built with arms nearly the size of Draco's legs.

His biggest shock, however, came from Neville Longbottom. Once having been a rather significant bully to the boy, he now was glad that he ceased his maligning of the Gryffindor Prefect. Neville had sprouted in height over the summer, standing a full head taller than nearly anyone else in the class. He was broad in the shoulder and narrow in the waist. His body rippled as he moved. How he'd managed to amass such a frame was beyond Draco, but he couldn't argue with what his eyes were telling him. Neville was no longer the goofy, foppish student he'd been previously.

Faith began with basic subduing holds. She issued half the class small foot long twigs the size and shape of a drumstick. Concentrating on quick and easy ways to disarm a wand, she had half the students practicing this while the other half attempted to bring their makeshift wands to bear for a spell. When asked why they weren't using their real wands, Faith's answer was simple. “So they don't get broken.”

For several moments she walked the line correcting technique here, offering praise there. The students were fairly fast learners and were picking it up quite quickly. She had them trade off and watched as they went through the practices again and again.

“Hem, hem.” Sounded from the back of the room.

“Take a break.” Faith said, looking toward Umbridge. “Yes, Miss Umbridge?”

“I'm just curious. How is this helping students understand the basics of the Dark Arts?” She asked.

“It's not.” Faith said. “Because when you…”

Umbridge talked over the top of her. “Well, if you don't intend on teaching them anything  _about_  the dark arts, then how can you hope to teach them how to defend against it.”

“Kill me.” Faith said, crossing her arms. “Right now. Use whatever dark and powerful spell you have and kill me. Drop me like a bad habit. Do it.” She said, staring at Umbridge. “But leave your wand in your holster. Use your magic, but don't draw your wand.”

“That is hardly a justification…”

It was Faith's turn to talk over the top of her. “You can't. Bottom line. A few, a very, very few outliers aside, wizards can't really do much without their wands, can they?” She stepped forward toward the toad-like woman. “My lessons are about the real world, Miss Umbridge. Not the fantasy the Ministry wants everyone to see. In  _my_  world? There are no rules. There's no fancy stick-waving bullshit. It's about you and the guy in front of you.” She threw her fist out and stopped it a hair's breadth from Umbridge's face. To the woman's credit, she didn't flinch. “And it's about you being able to put him down before he has the chance to do it to you.” She motioned to the class. “When all is said and done, what is a wizard without their wand?” She cocked her head. “Parkinson?”

“Unarmed and unsure of themselves.” The girl said, sharply. Everyone in the class nodded their agreement.

“And when in a fight, if you're unsure of yourself what happens to you? Weasley?” Faith asked.

“You get creamed.” Ron offered happily.

“My lessons are going to keep that from happening.” Faith offered. “When this course is done, these students, in fact, all of my students, from first year to seventh will be able to lose their wand and not panic.”

Umbridge listened patiently but didn't give up. “But this is Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Lehane. You are simply teaching them self-defense. That isn't something the parents of the students of this school would approve of.”

“My mum is okay with it,” Ron said.

“So's mine,” Draco said simply. He and Ron shared a nod.

“My parents were hesitant, but have come around.” Blaise Zabini said as well.

“My parents are dead. I don't think they really have a say one way or another.” Harry said, deadpan.

“My father was ecstatic,” Hermione said.

“As was mine.” Pansy offered.

Faith grinned. “What else you got?”

Umbridge managed, through sheer force of will to keep her composure. Faith had to give credit where credit was due. “I will be speaking to the Minister about this. A curriculum where the children learn nothing of magic is highly irregular. Next you'll be wishing to teach them how to basket weave during class.” She said, marking down on her clipboard.

“I don't even know  _how_  to basket weave.” Faith said.

“I do,” Hermione said, off hand.

“Surprise, surprise,” Ron said, snidely.

Faith thought a moment. “Okay, Miss Umbridge.” She stepped aside. “For the last…” She looked at her watch. “Ten minutes of class the students are yours. Teach them something that'll save their lives should a dark wizard come into the class and attack them.”

Umbridge finally cracked. “Well, it's not that…”

“Oh, come on. Don't be shy.” Faith said, grinning. “You're a badass wizard.”

“A fat-ass wizard is more like it.” Ron said, harshly under his breath.

“Ten points from Gryffindor. Keep it up, Weasley.” Faith said. “I mean it, Umbridge. You work for the Ministry. If you weren't a hardcore badass caster, he wouldn't have given you this assignment, am I right?” Faith drew closer. “You were so ready to lay it down on me the other day. Bring that shit to bear. Show these kids what true power is. Show them what you did when the Dark Lord rose last time. Show them what kind of hellish fury you unleashed to fight the darkness. Give them a taste of doin' it Umbridge style.” She snatched the clipboard from the woman's hand and backed away. “Everyone's waitin'. I obviously can't teach. So here's your big audition.” When Umbridge stood, staring at the students, Faith chuckled. “Here, I'll give you some prompting. Tonks? Motivate her.”

The young Auror stepped forward and skinned her wand. “A little dueling, Trollbridge?”

Dolores narrowed her eyes. She slowly pulled her stubby wand from her belt. “You will learn proper respect, young lady.”

“Tell you what?” Tonks said, holding her hands out to the side. “You go first.”

Faith looked at Harry, who stood beside Umbridge's wand hand. She eyed the wand and the boy, nodding.

Harry understood immediately what she wanted him to do. For several seconds, Umbridge stared at Tonks. Her chubby shoulder twitched. Harry was in motion. In a flash, he stepped forward and tore Umbridge's wand from her hand. The squat woman was left just as Faith had said she would be; unarmed and unsure. Harry was several feet away, holding her wand up, smiling.

“And now you're dead.” Faith said. She stepped closer to Umbridge. “What Harry did was against the rules, wasn't it? You were in a duel with Tonks. No other wizard should have gotten involved. But he did, didn't he?” Faith grinned brightly. “Welcome to the real world, Miss Umbridge.” She offered the woman back her clipboard. “Nice of you to join us.”

“My wand?” She said, holding her hand out. Harry stepped over and slid it into her belt.

“The best defense there is against the dark arts, Miss Umbridge? Don't allow anyone the opportunity to cast any spells in the first place. You take away their ability to do that, and you don't just defend against the dark arts. You defend against the arts period.”

Without another word, the woman left the classroom. Her body was literally trembling with rage. “God, I love my job.” Faith said, smiling.

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

Faith watched as the students slowly filed out of the Great Hall. She sighed heavily and made her way with Tonks back to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. “Kids seem to be picking things up pretty quick.” Faith said to her assistant.

Tonks nodded. “Some of 'em are showin' good potential.”

“You think I'm doin' the right thing?” She asked. “I mean…I don't wanna be teaching these kids shit that ain't gonna help 'em.”

“What you said to Trollbridge was right on the money. Without a wand, Wizards and Witches ain't got much to fall back on. Being an Auror, I've had some basic hand to hand training, but nothing near your caliber.”

“Still think you're selling yourself short.” Faith said. “In my apartment, you did pretty well.”

“I got lucky. No convincin' me otherwise on that.” Tonks returned.

“I know lucky. What you had that night wasn't luck, it was skill. I know that, too.”

Tonks just smiled and shrugged. “Watching you drop Moody and Lupin without breakin' a sweat scared the hell out of me. Fear of getting my head kicked off of my shoulders got the blood pumpin', believe me.”

“I know how that feels.” Faith said, chuckling. They reached the classroom a few seconds later. She was surprised to see Professor Snape sitting at the desk with his arms crossed over his narrow chest. “Something I can do for you, Professor Snape?”

“I'd like to have a word if I may.” He said his tone cold. He turned to Tonks. “Alone.”

“I'll meet up with you for dinner.” Faith said, looking at Tonks.

The Auror nodded and turned to leave the room. She stopped, spared another look at the Potions Master and left, heading for her own room.

Faith moved to her office. “Come on in,” She said, unlocking the door. Snape rose and swept across the floor behind her. Faith took her seat behind the desk and motioned to the chair. “What's on your mind?”

“I have… _concerns_  regarding your decision to pair the students as you have.” He said, taking a seat in front of the desk. “I believe it brings undue stress on them.”

Faith chuckled. “That's a funny statement coming from you.”

“Why do you say that?” He asked her.

“Well, from my read in the landscape, you don't really give one damn about the students stress level.” Faith said. “At least not if the student isn't a Slytherin.”

“You've been speaking to Potter,” Snape said.

“Not just Harry. All the Gryffindors say the same thing. I'm betting if I ask the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff kids, they'd tell me the same thing. You pimp around like Darth Vader and snatch house points whenever a kid looks at you crossways. Yet, whenever a Slytherin student does something wrong, you either ignore it or take a point or two to keep from looking like a total douche.”

“Whatever tales the children choose to tell is of no concern to me,” Snape said, snidely.

“You know, you should take a bit more interest in what these kids do or don't think, Snape. If not for them, you'd be out of a job.” Faith said to him. “But let's get back to the reason you came and saw me. You don't like that I've taken an axe to the house rivalry bullshit.”

“It isn't  _bullshit_  as you so eloquently put it. The house rivalry is about healthy competition.”

“The hell it is.” Faith said. “It's to promote and encourage bullying. Simple as that. It's a fear tactic to keep kids in line. The threat of losing house points from the teachers for the simplest of offenses – or at least in your case, no offense at all – is just a ploy to keep the children subdued and opinion free. Don't get me wrong, I stripped ten points from Gryffindor today because Ron Weasley shot an insult at Umbridge.”

“Nice to know that you can be somewhat impartial,” Snape remarked.

“I'm surprised you even know what that word means.” Faith said to him. “I think the house points system is bullshit. No one will ever be able to convince me otherwise.”

“How, by chance does it promote bullying?” He asked her.

“If a student does something to lose a rather significant amount of points, the rest of his house is gonna turn on him like a pack of wolves. They start teasing him and pitching him shit. Dumping his books, who knows? Kids can be pretty rotten to each other, with or without a reason. The house point crap just gives kids one more reason to be rotten to each other. To say nothing of the inter-house garbage.” She shook her head. “This school should be united and working together. Not walking around trying to undermine each other to get a few house points.”

Snape stared at her for a long moment, before speaking. “The house system has been in place for a very long time.”

“Just because a tradition is old, doesn't mean it's good or even right.” Faith said. “A bad habit is still a bad habit, no matter how old it is.”

Snape sighed and rose to his feet. “What you're doing is going to cause problems.”

“Gotta break a few eggs to make an omelet.” Faith said.

“Just be careful that you don't end up with egg everywhere but in your skillet,” Snape said.

“That's why man invented the washcloth, Snape. I can clean up any mess I might make.”

“For these students sake, you'd best hope so,” He said, turning to leave the room.

“Question.” Faith said, causing him to pause. “Out of curiosity, what's your problem with Harry? Why do you pitch him so much more shit than the other kids?”

Snape stared at her. “That is between Potter and myself.”

“Not anymore it's not.” Faith said, rising to her feet. “I'm serving notice, here and now. All due respect and shit aside, I love him. Whether that sits well with anyone or not is everyone else's problem. But the fact remains. You wanna glide around and be all Nosferatu, that's your business. Do that. But you keep singling Harry out and we're gonna lock horns.” She stepped up and staring up into his eyes. “And it isn't going to be pretty.”

He wasn't intimidated in the least. “I've dealt with many,  _many_  people older, larger and more powerful than you, Professor Lehane. There is nothing about you I find frightening. Your physical nature may keep peons such as Umbridge in check, but I am not impressed.”

“Underestimating someone like me is a pretty dangerous mistake to make, Snape.” Faith snarled at him.

He smiled and leaned down, getting close to her face. “Overestimating one's self is a more dangerous mistake yet.” He kept her eyes a moment longer before turning and leaving the room.

Faith stood there and trembled. She wanted nothing more, at that moment than to go after him and educate his ass on just how wrong he was. A couple minutes later Harry came into the office. “Was that Snape I saw leaving?” He asked her.

Faith leaned against the desk and nodded. “He's pissed that in my class I paired students from rival houses.”

“Well, in his defense, it's pretty drastic,” Harry said, taking a seat. “Chances are he's not the kind of person that embraces change.”

Faith nodded. “Caught that,” She said. She stopped as she stared into Harry's eyes. She could see that he was enraged beyond words. “What's wrong?”

“I have detention with Umbridge tonight,” Harry said.

“What?” Faith asked, suddenly very pissed. “For what?”

He sighed and leaned back. “She cornered me in the hall when I was going back to the dorm. She baited me and I fell for it.”

“Does she even have the authority to give you detention?” Faith asked him. He nodded. “What did she say? And what did you say?”

“She told me that I should stop telling tall tales about Voldemort's return. That I was just making it all up to get attention.” Harry said, sadly. “I told her that not only was he back but that he had Lucius Malfoy on his side. I told her about Cedric and she just said that his death was a 'tragic accident'.” He said, making quotation marks in the air. “She sent me to Professor McGonagall.  _She_  told me that I have to watch my mouth and keep my head down.”

Faith furrowed her brow and shook her head. “That's just bullshit.”

“Oh, it gets better,” Harry said. “I have detention with her every day this week.”

“Like hell you do.” Faith said.

“No, I do. Nothing anyone can do about it. Professor McGonagall said that I'm supposed to serve them all.” Harry shook his head. “If I miss just one, we won't be going to stay in Hogsmeade this weekend.”

“I swear to god, I'm gonna kill her.” Faith said, growling. “I could just open her neck and chuck her fuckin' ass into the lake. Let the giant squid have her.”

“No. You'd wanna feed her to the acromantulas in the forest,” Harry said, deadpan. “They'd more easily get rid of the evidence.”

“Let me guess. Acromantula is a giant spider of some kind, isn't it?” At Harry's nod, she chuckled. “I actually like spiders.”

“These are the size of cars and eat human flesh,” Harry said. “The only person they won't eat is Hagrid.”

Faith shrugged. “If I decide to get rid of the toad, that's probably what I'll do.” She looked him in the eye. “You want me to have a talk with Umbridge? Five bucks says I can get her to drop the detention.”

He shook his head. “No. I'm pretty sure, truth be told that's what she wants. She wants you to do something that'll get you thrown out. I'll just go to the detentions and learn to keep my mouth shut.”

Faith shook her head. “It's only one hour, right?”

“As far as I know,” Harry said, sadly. “I have Quidditch practice on Friday at five.”

“Then go to Quidditch practice.” Faith said. “Or talk to your teammates and ask them to do the practice an hour later.”

“They won't,” He said. “I already talked to Angelina Johnson. She said that I have to be there, no matter what.”

Faith narrowed her eyes. “Or what?”

“I don't know. She might not let me play on the team.” He was on the verge of tears.

“Okay. I can't do anything about the detention, but I  _can_  do something about the Quidditch tryouts.”

“What are you going to do?” He asked her.

“Plausible deniability.” Faith said. “Don't worry about.” She looked at her watch. “You'd best get going. It's almost five.”

Harry sighed and rose from the chair. “This is going to be horrible. I just know it.”

“It's detention with Trollbridge. Of course, it is.” She pulled him in and kissed him. “Just keep your head down and do what you're told. I'm gonna make some calls and see about getting her fat ass booted. And don't worry about Quidditch tryouts.”

“Just the same, I'm going to talk to her about being able to get out of detention or doing it at a later time.”

Faith snorted. “Yeah. Good luck with that.” She followed him out of the classroom and headed for the Gryffindor dorms.

She made it to the fat lady. “Mimbulus mimbletonia.” She said to the woman. The painting swung open to reveal the hole that the students had to crawl through. “They couldn't have just put in a fuckin' door?” Faith said as she nimbly crawled through. She entered the common room to see Fred and George Weasley sifting through a paper bag. “Hey. You guys seen Angelina Johnson?”

“She's in her room.” Fred said. “Care for a sweet?” He offered her the bag.

“I wouldn't put anything in my mouth the pair of you hand me.” Faith said, shaking her head. “I plan to live past eighteen, thank you.”

“We've already had one.” George said. “They're not dangerous.”

“Yeah, and Umbridge is a wonderful and whole welcome addition to the Hogwarts staff.” Faith said, heading for the girls' dorm.

“That hurts.” Fred said, sadly.

“Wah.” She said, trotting up the stairs. She entered the dorm room and looked around. She saw the tall dark skinned girl sitting on her bed, reading. “Angelina?” She asked, moving over and dropping to the bed beside the girl. “We gotta talk.”

She looked into Faith's eyes, furrowing her brow. “About what?”

“Harry.” Faith said. “He's not gonna be able to make the Quidditch practice on Friday.” She said, flatly.

“If he wants to stay on the team…” She began, angrily.

“Stop.” Faith said, shaking her head. “Use that mallet on top of your neck for something other than carrying around perfect hair. Umbridge has a hard on for the kid, you know that. Everyone does. It isn't his fault she gave him detention. He's got detention for an hour. Instead of practicing at five, why not wait until six thirty or seven?”

“I've got the pitch booked special…” She began.

“Change it.” Faith said, shrugging. “Not that hard.”

“We can't.” Angelina said. “Slytherin has it booked at seven.”

“Swap with them.”

“As if they'd be willing to.”

Faith was starting to get pissed. “Look. You're a smart girl. Figure it out. But Harry isn't gonna be there Friday and if you wanna throw a childish-ass tantrum and kick him off the team for getting singled out by Umbridge, then that's your business. Or you could, oh, I don't know… actually, give a damn about your players and work around it.” Faith rose to her feet. “Choice is yours. You can be a leader or you can be a tyrant. It's up to you.” She left the room, shaking her head.

Angelina stared at her as she left and went back to her book, but she was far too upset to read.

Harry entered the office that Umbridge had been given for her tenure at Hogwarts. He'd never had the occasion to be in the office before. But as he entered, he was almost nauseated by what he saw. Every conceivable surface was slathered with lacy covers and cloths. Vases full

of dried flowers sat everywhere, each resting on its own doily. Upon one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each plastered with a kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. Harry was so disturbed and distracted by them that he missed what the woman had said until she spoke up again. “Good evening, Mr. Potter.”

Harry looked around. He had not noticed her at first because she was wearing a garishly flowered set of robes that camouflaged her flawlessly with the tablecloth on the desk behind her. “Evening.” He said, stiffly.

“Well, sit down.” She said, pointing to the small table draped with lace. A straight-backed chair was sitting beside it. A piece of blank parchment was laid out.

He bit his lip as he moved over to sit down. “Um…” He looked at her as she stared at him with a pleasant smile. “Before we start, I-I wanted to ask you a…a favor.”

Her eyes immediately narrowed. “Yes?” She asked, her tone filled with sugary venom.

“Well, I'm, I'm on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And I was supposed to be at the tryouts for the new Keeper at five o'clock on Friday and I was…I was wondering whether I could skip detention that night and do it – do it another night instead.” He knew at that moment that Faith was right.

She tisked and shook her head. “Oh no,” said Umbridge, smiling so widely that he expected her face to fall in upon itself. “Oh no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr. Potter, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to

suit the guilty one's convenience. No, you will come here at five o'clock tomorrow, and the next day, and on Friday too, and you will do your detentions as planned. I think it rather a good thing that you are missing something you really want to do. It ought to reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach you.”

Harry felt heat rise in his head and heard what he believed was his heartbeat thudding in his ears.  _So I tell evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, do I?_ He said to himself. She continued to stare at him with her head cocked to one side, grinning like a massive bullfrog. He wouldn't be surprised if she knew exactly what he was thinking. Her eyebrow raised as she watched him. He realized that he was snarling and stopped, turning to the table. He yanked the chair out and sat down, dropping his bag beside him.

She gave an approving nod. “There,” said Umbridge sweetly. “We're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Mr. Potter.” Harry bent down to open his bag. “No, not with your quill. You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are.” She handed him a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point. “I want you to write  _'I must not tell lies,'_ , ” she told him softly.

Harry took the quill. “How many times?” Harry asked, with a forced amount of civility.

She again smiled sweetly. “Oh, as long as it takes for the message to  _sink in,_ ” said Umbridge. “Off you go.” She moved over to her desk, sat down, and bent over a stack of Parchment.

Harry raised the sharp black quill and then realized something was missing. “You haven't given me any ink.”

“Oh, you won't need ink.” Umbridge said a small laugh in her voice.

“Whatever.” He said, shaking his head. He quickly wrote  _'I must not tell lies'_ Suddenly he let out a gasp of pain. The words were written on the paper in shining red ink. At the same moment, they appeared carved into the flash on the back of his hand. The scratches healed seconds later but were apparent in red raised welts as if they were cut into his skin with a scalpel. He looked at Umbridge who was staring at him with that same wide smile. The pair continued to watch each other.

Several thoughts raced across Harry's mind. Not the least of which was to write  _'I will not be an insufferable toad-woman'_  across her forehead with her own hand clutching the quill as he did so. Instead, he did the smart thing. “I find it incredibly difficult to write with this quill.” He set it down and began rummaging around in his bag.

“I believe my instructions were clear, Mr. Potter. You will be using that quill.” She said, her voice still pleasant. “Now get back to it. Chop, chop.” Harry ignored her. He pulled his own quill out and his ink. “Mr. Potter.” She said, rising to her feet. “I won't tell you again.” She reached for his quill.

He gripped her wrist and held it fast. “If you feel that strongly about it…” He slowly took the black quill and placed it in her hand. “Why don't you show me  _exactly_  what you want me to do? Because maybe I'm using wrong.” He looked up at her with narrow eyes. “I am a  _child_  after all. And we can't be trusted to do anything right, now can we?”

Umbridge was beside herself with anger. “I will not tolerate…”

“Fine then.” Harry said, ripping the quill free of her hand. “Then I'll go ahead and take this with me.” He threw everything in his bag and rose to his feet. “I'm going to speak with Professor McGonagall. I'm sure she'd be interested to know what you were attempting to do to me.” He snatched the parchment from the table and left the woman's office.

She, of course, rushed after him. “Mr. Potter! You come back this instant. I can have you expelled.”

He stopped and looked at her. It was his turn to grin widely. “Be my guest.” He said, turning and heading to the Deputy Headmistress' office.

Umbridge snarled and pulled her wand. “Don't make me stop you, young man.” She leveled it at him, anger in her voice.

Harry spun his own wand out and ready. “ _Expelliarmus_!” He shouted quickly.

Umbridge's wand immediately went flying across the room. She was shocked at how quickly Harry had gotten his spell off. She turned back to him and met a pair of the coldest, angriest and most dangerous eyes she'd ever seen.

“I want you to understand something,  _Miss Umbridge_.” He said his voice ice cold. “Ever since I was eleven years old, I've been dancing with the devil himself. I've faced death,  _death_ , Miss Umbridge more times than you can imagine. I've had fight for my very survival every year I've been at this school.” He slowly walked toward her, his wand pointed at her. “I watched Voldemort be reborn from blood taken from me and then I watched him murder one of my friends. I had to fight him and his death eaters to bring back the body of that same friend.” He shook his head. “I don't really give one good god damn if you don't believe that or not. Because Faith has a saying and I think right now, it's pretty damn poignant.” He stopped in front of her and pressed his wand to into her flabby neck. “Refusing to believe in the devil isn't going to save you from him.” He glared at her. “In light of all, I've faced, all I've had to deal with? You don't scare me. You don't intimidate me.” He growled. He thanked Faith for what he said next. “You know why?” He leaned down to within a hair's breadth of her face. “Because I'm Harry  _fucking_  Potter.”

He withdrew his wand and turned on his heel. He left the room without another word. He strode confidently through the hallway. He was done. Done with being bullied, done with being manipulated, done being used. He was just flat out done. He arrived at McGonagall's office and pounded on the door. A moment later, the woman opened the door looking down at him. “Aren't you supposed to be serving detention with Miss Umbridge?”

“I've decided I don't want to.” He said, pushing past the woman to sit down in the chair in front of her desk. “And before you decide to start playing up, I can tell you why.” He said, tossing the quill and parchment onto the desk. “Have a look at this.”

McGonagall, despite her desire to tear into the boy, humored him and moved over to look at the paper and pen. “What is this?”

“Write something on the parchment.” Harry said. “No need for ink, believe me.”

Minerva sat down and wrote her name. She gasped in pain as the letters were sliced into the back of her hand. “Bloody hell.” She said, rubbing her skin. “That's terrible.”

“She wanted me to write  _'I must not tell lies'_  on the parchment.” Harry said. “I am not going to be brutalized, Professor.”

“Writing sentences is one thing, but this is unacceptable.” McGonagall said.

“In the interest of honesty, I will not be serving any more detentions with Miss Umbridge.” As McGonagall began to speak, he lifted his hand. “I've said my piece. I'm tired of everyone constantly talking at me, for me and about me, but never talking  _to_  me.” He shook his head. “The only one that has been truly looking out for me is Faith. She gave me the confidence to finally stand up for myself. I used the Disarming Charm on Umbridge because she threatened to attack me with her wand.”

McGonagall sat quietly and let the boy rant. “Are you quite finished?” She asked him.

“Oh, Professor McGonagall, I'm most certainly done.” Harry said, his voice hard. “As done as it gets.”

If she caught his meaning, she showed no signs of it. “Good. Now, I'll address this with Miss Umbridge. You will, however, attend your detentions as scheduled…”

“I don't think I was unclear in any way.” Harry said, interrupting her. “I'm not spending a moment alone with that woman and that's an end of it.”

Minerva sighed and shook her head. “Faith is a horrible influence on you.”

“Or a very positive one.” He said simply. “Faith will attend the detentions with me. But I steadfastly refuse to be in a room alone with Umbridge. Trust me, it's for her safety as much as it is mine.” He smiled at her.

A shiver ran up the elder woman's spine. “Fine.” She said, taking what she could get. She wasn't sure if the newfound confidence the boy decided to show was heartening or disturbing. But she knew one thing immediately. Things were going to change at Hogwarts.

And the duo of the boy who lived and the slayer he loved were going to be the eye of the storm.

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

Harry stared at Faith sadly. “What do you mean?”

Faith sighed and stepped up to him. “I've got a ton of shit to do, baby. I've got lesson plans to work out. It's not like I just pull this shit out of my ass. Takes work and time.”

“But the blood quill…” Harry whined.

“Look. If you want, my offer stands. I can drag her ass out into the forest, slash her Achilles tendons with my bowie and leave her ass for the acromantulas. They'd find what's left of her in about three or four days in a pile of spider shit. But I seriously can't sit in with a detention with you and her. I gotta get stuff done.”

“I just don't trust her,” Harry said. “The woman is a…”

“Complete and total bitch?” Faith finished. “I know, trust me. Why don't you just blow the detentions off? What can she do to you?”

“She can expel me,” Harry said.

“What if she does? So what?” Faith shook her head. “We leave Hogwarts, book a flight to America and live out our days someplace warm close to a good barbecue joint. Let these fuckers solve their own problems.”

“What about the Watcher's Council? Won't they have a problem with you leaving? I thought they wanted you at Hogwarts.” Harry asked, confused.

Faith shrugged. “Chances are good they won't care where I am as long as I'm fighting the good fight. And knowing what I know of the Council they have no love lost with the Ministry of Magic. And besides that, they'd be thrilled to get someone as influential and powerful as you on their payroll. They'd forgive a lot, I'm sure.” Faith then grinned. “You'd make an awesome Watcher, now that I think about it.”

Harry chuckled. “I have a hard enough time with the rules here at Hogwarts. I couldn't stand having to live by the rules that govern people like you.”

Faith gave him a nod. “There aren't really a lot of rules to follow. Of course what few, there were, I blew the hell out of.” She seemed a bit saddened.

Harry pulled her in for a hug. “I'm sorry you had endure all you have.”

“It's a part of my past, like it or not.” Faith offered. She pulled him in for a spine numbing kiss. “Tell you what? I don't like the idea of you being in a room with that bitch alone any more than you do. Especially after what she did to you last time. I'm gonna have a talk with Dumbledore. See if he's willing to supervise.”

“What about just having Tonks sit in?” Harry asked.

“Because she's not really any better controlled than I am.” Faith explained. “She's me with a wand. No. If we want someone to watch Trollbridge, it's gotta be, A: Someone with authority and B: Someone that won't beat the shit out of her if she tries some bullshit. Tonks really doesn't have a lot of authority to speak of, being a teaching assistant. I do, but I'm too hotheaded to keep my shit in check if she decides to fuck with you. Dumbledore is the perfect fit for this.”

Harry sighed. “I'd rather it be you.”

“I'm sure you do. But if I'm there, the Ministry is gonna be short one chubby toad and the spiders of the forest are gonna have pink cardigan scented farts.” Faith said.

Harry chuckled again. “True.”

Faith rose from her desk and headed for the office door. “I'll go and talk to Dumbledore. See what we can work out. Figure he owes you this one.”

Harry nodded and rose with her. “I'll see you at dinner, then?”

She nodded and went to the Headmaster's office. She spoke the password, rose up on the winding circular staircase and stepped into the cluttered space. Dumbledore looked at her with a warm smile. “Faith. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You know, you really should get some filing cabinets,” She said, looking around. “Anyway.” She sat down in the chair in front of the desk. “It's about Harry's detentions with Umbridge. You were told what she did to him, right?”

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and frowned. “I am only aware that he served detention with her. Beyond that…” He shook his head.

“She made him write with this quill pen that carved the sentences he was writing into the back of his hand and put them to paper in his own blood.” Faith said. “In all honesty, I deserve a fucking medal for coming to you with this shit. Everyone's lucky I didn't do what I wanted to do.”

Dumbledore nodded glumly. “I'm aware of what you wanted to do to the woman once you found out.” He offered.

“It would solve everyone's problem with her.” Faith said. “I guarantee you, when she gets back to the Minister about this shit, he's gonna hand her the keys to the kingdom to do whatever she wants. Best to get rid of her now than to wait.”

Dumbledore did indeed know what Faith wanted to do with the woman. She wanted Umbridge dead, plain and simple. And while what Faith proposed – _and was willing –_ to do, appalled him to no end, he couldn't argue with its merit. Yes, it was Harry's punishment that was pushing the girl over the edge, but it was also the safety of any other students that Umbridge leveled her eye on that Faith was also looking out for. “There will be no killing of staff members on school grounds,” He said, his voice a touch hard.

“I can always invite her for drinks at the Hog's Head.” Faith said, grinning. “Hogsmead isn't school property.”

Dumbledore sighed heavily. He  _had_  walked right into that one. “No, Faith,” He said, shaking his head. “While I don't approve of her methods, Umbridge does have the right to issue detentions. And seeing as she has issued such to Harry, he is rule bound to attend them.”

“Not arguing that.” Faith said. “But given that she's resulted to what amounts to torture, which last I checked was illegal as shit, she can't be trusted to be alone with students. Harry wants me to sit in on them and I can't. I got so much to do it isn't even funny.”

“What are you suggesting? That I find a staff member…?”

“I'm suggesting he serve his detentions with  _you_  and Umbridge.” She held her arms out. “He can serve them up here. In your office.” Dumbledore stared at her a moment. In all truth, it was a rather good idea. “And not only that, but you can do it under the guise of making sure students were respecting her authority. Make yourself out to be the good guy and somewhat supporting the Ministry.” She balked with a chuckle. “Not that anyone does, mind you.”

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and stroked his long white beard. “That does have some merit to it,” He said, offering a grandfatherly smile. “I'll let young Harry know that his future detentions will be served here in my office with Umbridge. And I'll see to it that he is free of any kind of painful torture from here on.”

Faith smiled at him. “I really do appreciate it. And in case you're wondering, it isn't just for Harry's sake. If she's willing to do it to him, she's willing to do it to someone else.” She rose to her feet.

“Very true,” Dumbledore said in total agreement.

Dolores Umbridge was beyond incensed. She sat in Dumbledore's office sipping a cup of tea as Harry – with his own quill and ink – wrote sentence after sentence.  _I will respect those in positions of authority_  flowed onto his page quickly and effortlessly. When she informed him that she wished him to continue writing  _I must not tell lies_ Dumbledore spoke up.

“Personal belief in a statement does not make it true or false. Since there is no factual evidence ready at the moment to prove or  _disprove_  Harry's statements, we can't outright call them lies, now can we? If we do, then everything that is in question must, therefore, be considered a falsehood. And seeing how there are any number of subjects that are debated with no true evidence, that would be quite a list, do you not agree?” He then suggested the alternative statement.

Angered at being called to the carpet so thoroughly, but realizing that, as the Headmaster, he had the authority to override her, she agreed to let Harry scribe the former sentences.

She watched the boy with nothing short of seething hatred. Dumbledore saw this but chose not to voice any kind of concern over it. At the moment, she was toothless as it got. Yes, being High Inquisitor did give her the right to dismiss teachers that were supposedly 'bad' at their posts, she didn't have the authority to remove either him or Faith, given that both of them were supported by the Prime Minister of England himself.

That completely removed a great deal of Umbridge's supposed power.

But Dumbledore wasn't so naïve as to believe that the Minister and Umbridge, colluding as they were, wouldn't find some other way to exert influence over the school. Though he was a terrible Minister, Cornelius Fudge was a very shrewd and cunning man and the same could be said for Dolores Umbridge. One doesn't get to the positions the pair were without a bit of killer instinct and intelligence.

“Alright, Harry,” Dumbledore said, looking at the large ornate clock upon his wall. “You may go.”

Umbridge frowned. “I haven't dismissed him, Headmaster.”

“Detentions are to last no more than one hour, Miss Umbridge,” Dumbledore said, his voice calm and somewhat whimsical. “I see no reason for it to be otherwise, do you?” He took Harry's page of sentences. “Here you are. Record of his activities for this particular disciplinary session.” He looked to Harry. “Run along, Harry.”

“Thank you, Headmaster,” He said, happily. He gathered his supplies and bag and left the office without even looking at Umbridge.

As he left, Umbridge stood, fuming. “Was there something else, Miss Umbridge?” Dumbledore asked her.

“I know what you're doing,” She said, her voice cold. “And mark my words, it will come back to grieve you.”

“I am sorry, Miss Umbridge. I don't follow.” He said, giving her a knowing smirk.

“As High Inquisitor…” She began.

“You are to observe and report the performance of staff members at their given subjects, Miss Umbridge. That is the width and breadth of your authority. Yes, there are certain teachers, should you be able to prove that they are ill qualified in their fields, that can be removed should you deem it necessary, but you have absolutely  _no_  authority over the students. As a staff member yourself, you can issue detention and disciplinary actions as can any other staff.” He leaned forward to stare at her with stormy eyes. “But understand this now. You will not, I repeat  _will not_  torture students in my school.” He slowly shook his head. “I don't give one bloody damn what the Minister says. Do I make myself clear?”

She glared at him. “I'll be speaking with the Minister…”

“ _Do-I-make-myself-clear_?” The old wizard growled.

Umbridge could feel a sort of electricity in the air. It was Dumbledore's barely contained power rolling over her. In truth, she'd never felt anything like it. It was a reminder that she was, in fact, speaking with one of the most powerful wizards on the planet. “Crystal,” She said, her voice tight.

“Good,” He said, his own voice back to the cheerful paternal tone he seemed to have most of the time. “I've quite a bit of work to do. As I am sure you do. I will see you tomorrow evening.” He took a seat and began looking over the papers on his desk. “Good evening, Miss Umbridge.”

Harry was giggling all the way to Gryffindor tower. The look on Umbridge's face was priceless. He made it to the common room and saw Ron and Hermione sitting on the sofa chatting. They looked at him as he approached.

“How did it go?” Hermione asked worry etched across her face.

Harry grinned at her. “I had to write sentences. With my own quill and ink. Dumbledore really came to my defense on this one.”

“I can't wait until someone removes that fat toad,” Ron said, angrily. “She's nothing but a waste of good breathable air.”

Harry nodded. “She was angry beyond belief,” He said, settling down into one of the chairs. “But Faith and I are in agreement about one thing. She won't be content to settle for what authority she has now. She and the Minister will find a way to exert more control over the school.”

Hermione shook her head. “How can they? Faith said it herself. Both she and Dumbledore's positions are backed by the muggle government. The Ministry _has_  to obey the Prime Minister's rulings.”

“Yeah,” Ron said, nodding. “Hermione is right. Umbridge can't do anything to Faith or Dumbledore.”

“But they're not the only staff members,” Harry said. “She has the right to sack teachers if she chooses to. She might not be able to get rid of Dumbledore and Faith, but there are others. Why just the other day she put Professor Trelawney on probation.”

Ron snorted. “Big deal. Woman's a nutter.”

Hermione swatted him on the arm. “She's not a nutter.”

Harry agreed with Ron's assessment of the woman. As far as divinations went, the woman was as far from accurate as it got. Most of the time. She did predict the rise of Voldemort when she and Harry were alone once. It was an odd occurrence and it shook him when it happened…but that was the only real flash of ability the woman seemed to have. The rest was just smoke and nonsense.

“I'm just afraid of what's going to happen to poor Hagrid,” Hermione said. “It's well known that Umbridge is no fan of half-breeds. She's not going to go easy on him.”

Harry shook his head. “She might be able to sack him as Care of Magical Creatures instructor, but she can't remove him as Gamekeeper or Keeper of the keys. He's too good at those jobs for him to be removed.”

Hermione mirrored Harry's gesture. “She can bring up that he had dangerous animals in his dorm when he was attending as a student. She'll call into question his irresponsibility toward the students of the school.”

“That was years and years ago,” Ron said. “She can't make hay about that, now.”

“Bullocks she can't,” Hermione said. “If she thinks for a moment she can remove someone dear to Headmaster Dumbledore, she'll do it. No matter how good at his job Hagrid is, if she wishes to, she'll find a way to get rid of him. Since she can't get rid of the two people she desperately wishes to, she'll do her best to hurt them.” She looked at Harry. “If you continue to push her, she may find a way to expel you.”

Harry looked Hermione in the eye and gave a simple shrug. “Given how miserable she is making my time here, I'm starting not to fear that result overmuch.”

That shocked both Ron and Hermione. “Surely you don't mean that,” Ron said. “I thought you loved it at Hogwarts.”

“That was before I…” He sighed. “That was before.”

Hermione leaned forward and rested her hand on Harry's arm. “Don't worry. I can't see her being here much longer. I'm sure Faith and Dumbledore will find a way to be rid of her soon.”

Harry looked at her and nodded, but in truth, he wasn't so sure.

Faith leaned back on her bed and sighed. “I don't know, Tweed,” She said into her phone. “Woman's really getting on my nerves.”

Giles pulled his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don't like the way this sounds. Not from you, Faith.”

“I know, I know. I mean, I wanna do it. She's making me want to.” She shook her head. “Shit, the way these people work, I'm not even sure I'd get in trouble for it.”

“But if you travel that road…” He began.

“It means doing things. Things I swore I'd never do again.” Faith admitted, darkly. “I guess this is what they meant when they said the road to redemption is never easy.”

“Hard choices to go with the hard lessons,” He said, smiling. “I'm proud of you, Faith.” He let out a sigh. “I've been loathe bringing this up…”

“Spit it out, Tweed.” Faith said, chuckling.

“Buffy knows about you. I talked to her about it.”

Faith stiffened. “Why'd you do that?”

“Because of everything you did, Faith,” Giles said, his voice colder than he wanted. “You toyed with her life and nearly broke her. She's entitled to her anger and her pain.”

Faith wanted to argue with him, but she couldn't. He was right. She screwed with Buffy's life from top to bottom. “How'd she take the news?”

“Well, she's glad you're as far from her as possible to be. She did make it plain that Sunnydale is no man's land as far as you're concerned.”

“Can't really blame her.” Faith said. “I wanna apologize to her, but I'm not sure how she'd take it.”

“I'm not sure, either,” He said. “But the funny thing is, she um, she wanted me to give you her phone number.”

“Seriously?” Faith asked. “That's surprising.”

“Very,” Giles said. “Do you want it?” He asked her.

“Yeah. I owe to her to at least try.” Faith said to him. She jotted the number down and sighed heavily. “I'll go ahead and call her.”

“Just be prepared, Faith. She's more likely as not going to be cross.”

“Cross is for British gentlemen like you, G-man. B's gonna be fuckin' pissed.”

“Fair enough,” He said. “Good luck, Faith.”

She ended the call and was about to dial the number he'd given her when her apartment door opened and closed. She couldn't see anyone there. “Hello?” She asked. “I swear to god, Peeves you, motherfucker. If that's you, I'm gonna…”

“Relax, Faith.” Harry's voice sounded out. Suddenly, his head appeared as he dropped the hood of his invisibility cloak. “It's me.”

She smiled widely and looked at the clock. “It's after hours, studly,” She said, rising from her bed. She tossed her phone onto the nightstand.

“I know,” He said, smiling. “But I had to see you.”

She moved over and pulled him in for a knee buckling, spine-numbing kiss. “I'm glad you did.” She said in return. “Ten points from Gryffindor for you sneaking about.”

He reached down, gripped her buttocks and lifted her from the floor. She wrapped her legs around him as he moved to the bed. “A price I'm gladly willing to pay.”

“Figured it was.” Faith said, smiling.

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

Faith stared at the phone number she'd written on the scrap of parchment. She'd had the number for three days and hadn't made the call yet. She wasn't sure what she would say. Everything she did…Buffy deserved an apology, she really did. But as Faith sat there, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to give the blonde one.

Yes, she'd done terrible things to Buffy. But did that mean she was sorry for what she did? In the end, she realized that she was sorry. She messed with, not only Buffy's life but Buffy's family. She screwed with Buffy's mother. That was something else entirely. She was pretty sure that Buffy would never forgive her for that.

But that did beg the question, why give Faith her number? Faith sighed and turned to the bed she shared with her love. Harry lay asleep, snoring softly. She looked at the phone in her hand and saw that it was just after three in the morning. The room they'd rented in the Three Broomsticks was sparse, but Faith had honestly slept in worse. The bed was comfortable, the room was clean and the shower had good pressure. She called it a win.

She rose to her feet and got dressed. She slid her shoes on and leaned over to Harry. “I'm gonna make a phone call to the states,” She said, softly.

He looked up at her. “Everything alright?” He asked her.

She nodded. “Right as rain,” She said, smiling at him. “It's just something personal. Go back to sleep, babe.”

He kissed her and fell back to the bed. He was snoring again seconds later. She left the room closing the door behind her and eased her way down the stairs and out the front door to the street beyond. It was a chilly September evening. The streets of Hogsmead were abandoned. She leaned against the wall and sighed.

She then dialed the number. “Hello?” A bubbly voice asked.

Faith recognized it immediately as Willow. “Is Buffy Summers available?” She asked, trying to mask her voice a bit. She really didn't feel like dealing with the perky redhead at the moment.

“Um, yeah. Just a second.” Willow said. “Buffy. It's for you.”

“Thanks, Will,” Buffy said, taking the phone. “Hello?”

For several seconds, Faith didn't say anything. “You're probably gonna wanna send Red for coffees or something, B.” She finally said.

Buffy was likewise stone quiet. “Hey, Will?” Buffy asked the girl. She pulled a ten dollar bill from her pocket and handed it to Willow. “Why don't you go and get us mochas from the Espresso Pump? My treat.” Willow stared at her friend with a raised eyebrow. “I'll tell you later.” The blonde mouthed silently. Willow nodded and took the cash, leaving the slayer to her phone call. “She's gone.”

“Not real sure what to say, B.” Faith said. “I should apologize, but I'm not sure you'd accept it.”

“If you were me, would you?” Buffy asked. She desperately tried to keep the coldness out of her voice, but she knew she was failing. More to the point, she wasn't sure she cared.

“Back there and back then? Probably not. But things have changed, B.  _I've_  changed.” Faith said. “There's a lot of things I did then that I wouldn't do now. And vice versa.”

“Do you understand what you did, Faith?” Buffy asked her. “I tried so hard to help you, and you spat on me. My life was just something for you to play with. Angel, Riley – anything that you could take from me – you took. I've lost battles before, but nobody else has  _ever_ made me a victim.”

Faith frowned at that. “No, B?” She asked. “I seem to remember hearing that Angelus victimized the hell out you.  _And_  all of your friends. Not to mention torturing the shit out of your Watcher. But you still forgave him, didn't you?”

“This isn't about Angel, Faith.” Buffy snapped.

“It's about you and me, I know. But here's the sticks, blondie. Angel went all evil then killed and turned how many people to screw with your head? Then when he comes back from wherever he was, you just let him back in. I killed one guy, B. One. And you condemned me from the bottom of your heart. All of you did. You talk about reaching out, but that's a load of shit B and we both know it.”

“I tried, Faith,” Buffy said, sharply. “I tried so hard with you.”

“Christ, you still don't get it.” Faith said, growling.

“I do get it, Faith.” Buffy shot back. “What I didn't get is why you don't.”

“No, Buffy, you don't. You never got to feel what it was like to lose everything. Every chance, every choice. Being left with nothing but pain and anger. Being pissed off at the world because you can never get a break. That's not something you've  _ever_  had to feel.”

“Not until you came along. You made damn sure to take everything away from me.”

“Hurts, doesn't it?” Faith snapped. “It hurts when you see everything you love get stripped away from you piece by piece. Welcome to my world, Buffy.”

“You've never had to…” Buffy began.

Faith cut her off. “Best friend; gone. Moved away. Mother; dead. Alcohol poisoning. Father; death row for murder. Watcher; torn limb from limb in front of my very eyes by Kakistos.” Faith was angered beyond belief. “Loss is all my life has ever been about.”

“I didn't know any of that,” Buffy admitted.

“You didn't really seem to give enough of a shit to ask, did you? None of you did. The only one of you, the  _only_  one that gave enough of a damn to want to get to know me was Giles.”

“It wasn't like you were the most open person in the world, Faith.” Buffy shot back. “You lied to us about why you were in town. You brought a lot of heat with you.”

“I was a terrified fifteen-year-old girl, B.” Faith said. “And you all didn't know me from Eve. I wasn't even sure you  _could_  have helped me when I showed up. I was trying to figure out if you all had the chops to handle something like Kakistos. With what I saw him do to her, I didn't want a repeat. Why do you think I decided to just run for it that night?”

“Because you were hoping we'd clean up your mess.”

“That isn't why B and you know it. Stop being a bitch. I was running because it was me he was after. Not you and not the rest of the scoobies. I knew he'd follow me and leave you all alone.”

“I'm supposed to believe that?” Buffy asked her.

“I don't really give a crap what you believe.” Faith said. “I know the truth whether you believe it or not. You seem all for forgiving everyone but me. Angel tried to end the fucking world, but you forgave him. Xander's new girlfriend is an ex-vengeance demon that's screwed with more men than erectile dysfunction, but you accept her just fine. But me? Oh, hell no. Can't forgive Faith. She killed a guy...”

“Two,” Buffy said. “You conveniently keep forgetting that you stabbed Finch and killed Professor Worth.”

“And  _you_  keep conveniently forgetting that both of us were responsible for Finch's death.” Faith said, matter of fact. “I seem to recall a certain blonde slayer slamming him back first into a dumpster.”

“You stabbed him in the heart, Faith.”

“Yeah, I did,” She said, accepting her responsibility. “But who's to say that he wouldn't have survived that if you hadn't had brained him with a dumpster?”

“That's weak, Faith. Even for you.” Buffy chided.

“You're missing the point, Buffy. I'll take full responsibility for Worth. He was on me. All of it. But Finch was both of us and you know it. You just don't wanna believe that his blood is on your hands, too. You were there. You took part. Whether you drove the stake into his heart or not, you were involved. You gotta square with that, someday. I already have. I got a lot of shit to make up for and I'm doing it right now. I've got the Watcher's Council behind me and I'm making a life for myself.”

“So you just turn my life upside down and then get a free pass to London?” Buffy asked her. “Same old Faith.”

“Could say the same of you.” Faith said back. She could tell that the blonde was incredibly pissed off. And she knew why. Faith wasn't begging for forgiveness. In truth, Faith didn't really care whether Buffy and crew forgave her or not. She was happy where she was and if she was persona-non-grata in Sunnydale that was perfectly fine with her.

“I never murdered anyone, Faith,” Buffy said.

“Not singlehandedly, no.” Faith said. “But by proxy? Your resume is a lot more colorful than mine. Because you refused to stake Angel, everyone he killed is on your conscience. Even he would agree with that if you asked him.” Buffy went stone silent for a long time. “Call him and ask him. I'll wait.”

“Why'd you call me, Faith?” The blonde finally asked.

“Because you told Giles to give me your number. Figured there was a reason.”

“I was hoping to hear an apology.” Buffy coolly replied. “I was hoping that you'd have actually, oh I don't know, regretted putting me through the wringer.”

“I am sorry, Buffy. And I do regret it. At least, I do now. I didn't then. I felt pretty fucking justified those months ago. Hell, part of me still does. But I know now that it was a pretty shitty way to play it. We never clicked, B. Never. I was jealous as hell of your life. You have a mom that loves you to death, friends that back you up no matter what and a Watcher that would do anything for you. All of that and you took it all for granted. It pissed me off watching that. And you had the love of someone like Angel. Vampire or not, he's a good guy. Riley ain't bad either, but he's no Angel.” Faith sighed. “And whether you wanna admit this or not, you were kind of jealous of me. Not my life or any of that crap. One look at me told you I was bad news. But the fact that I threw myself into the slay full stop intrigued you. You wanted to cut loose like I did, but you just couldn't bring yourself to. And you envied me because of it.”

As Buffy listened, she knew Faith was right. About all of it. Being a slayer forever kept you separate from everything and everyone around you. Very, very few would ever truly be let in. Buffy found that in Angel. She was desperately hoping to find the same in Riley. But she had her doubts about the two of them.

“You can accept my apology or not, B.”

“You really don't give a damn if I do or not, do you?” Buffy asked her.

“I wouldn't say that.” Faith said. “But I will tell you this. I won't lose any sleep over it if you don't. What I did was fucked up and I admit that. Not gonna make excuses for what I put you through. But I'm not gonna say it was out of the blue, either. You all treated me like crap back there. All of you saw me and just thought I was white trash that didn't deserve to hang around with you all. You never included me in anything you did. Yeah, your mom made you ask me to come over for Christmas, but you bailed on us. I get why, I really do and I'm not really holding that against you, but other than that, you all left me in the motel room to rot. You only called me when you needed something.”

“Well, if my accepting your apology means so little to you…” Buffy said, trying to maintain control.

“I'm a slayer, too, B. Personal bullshit aside, we're the only two on the planet. Shit's gonna happen that you can't handle on your own. If you need me, I'm here. I'm willing to help you if you need it.”

Buffy was quiet for a moment. “Why would you wanna help us?”

“Because I'm a slayer, B. I do genuinely wanna do right this time around. The offer is there. It's up to you whether you take it or not.”

“I don't get you,” Buffy said.

“You never did.” Faith countered. “You're a good slayer, B. But even good slayers need a little bit of help. So I'm offerin'. This is my olive branch. Take it or not. You need me, you got my number. Bye.” She ended the call and stuffed her phone back into her pocket.

She stood there and stared up at the moon. She'd hoped that the conversation would go better, but she hadn't held her breath. Ever since she'd met Buffy, the blonde has been arrogant and proud. Faith could grant that Buffy had kind of earned a modicum of both. She was good at her job, but that was one of the problems she had with the girl. Buffy saw it as a job. She talked about it being a destiny and all of that, but she never lived it. She never really embraced it.

Faith took hold of being a slayer with both hands and never let go. To her, it was the greatest thing in the world. Given where she came from, it wasn't really surprising. Buffy came from privilege and it showed. She was spoiled. Slaying interfered with boys, clothes, and facebook. She whined when she had to train, she griped when she had to patrol…but for a few minutes when the fight was upon her, she could accept that she was better than everything she faced.

And it was  _those_  moments that she and Faith could truly connect. It was those moments that Faith truly missed having with her sister slayer. And she was saddened because she was fairly certain that they'd never come again.

She sighed and turned to head back into the room. Harry sat up in bed waiting for her. He could see Faith's tear streaked face. “Are you alright?” He asked her.

She sat on the edge of the bed and began untying her shoes. “I'm fine,” She said, dismissively.

He moved up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “That didn't sound very heartfelt.”

Faith stopped what she was doing and sat there a moment. “Why do you love me, Harry?”

“What?” He asked, shocked. He moved around and knelt in front of her. “Why would you ask me that?”

“I don't know.” Faith said, shaking her head. “It's just…things are going really well right now. I'm here, in this place with someone I genuinely care about.” She caressed his cheek with her thumb. “And I can't help but feel like I don't deserve it, somehow.”

“Because everything good seems to get taken away from you?” He asked her. At her nod, he moved closer. “Well, get used to things not following your traditional history, Faith. I love you. I don't give a damn how old I am or how old you are. The facts are the facts. We're in love. The people at the school respect you – at least those that matter – and you've proven that you wish to amend the events of your past.” He shook his head. “That makes you deserving of a good life.”

“Does it?” Faith asked. “I've got blood on my hands, Harry. Human blood.”

“Who doesn't?” Harry said. “In my first year at Hogwarts, I killed a man. Granted he was possessed by Voldemort at the time and wanted me dead…”

Faith sighed. “I just…”

“Stop this.” Harry said, shaking his head. “You're not doing this to yourself. I won't have it. You are a good woman, Faith. No one has a spotless past. No one. You did terrible things. That can't be argued. But you have two choices. You can either let it grind you down and succumb to the despair of what you did, or you can learn from it and use it as a reminder of what never to do again.” He pulled her in and kissed her. “I will never hold what you were against you.”

“How can you look at me and not see…?”

“I look at you and I don't see Faith the Vampire Slayer. I see Faith Lehane, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School of Wizarding and Witchcraft.” Harry said, smiling. “And I see the woman that I love and always will.”

Faith stared into his eyes. “You'll always be here for me, won't you?”

“Yes, I will,” Harry said, happily. “Forever.”

She pulled him to her and kissed him passionately. “I love you, Harry.”

“I love you as well, Faith.”

“It's highly improper,” Umbridge said her anger flaring. “The pair shouldn't be allowed to shack up together for the weekend.”

“What Harry Potter and Faith Lehane do off school grounds is no business of ours.” Dumbledore sat in his office with his fingers steepled in front of his wizened face. He was afraid of this. Granted, neither party in question made a secret of it, he still wished the insufferable woman before him hadn't put things together.

“Students and teachers should not be romantically involved,” She said, slamming her hand down on the desk. “It's a breach of ethics.”

“As long as their relationship does not affect either Faith's ability to perform her duties or Harry's education, I don't see the harm.”

Umbridge stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. “You can't honestly subscribe to this,” She said, dumbfounded. “It flies in the face of everything instructors hold dear.”

“They had a relationship before either set foot in this school at the beginning of the year. And need I remind you that Faith is only two years Harry's senior? To not expect some youthful exuberance is foolish at best.”

“She shows him favorable treatment. He visits her in her room at night.  _After_  hours, I might add.”Umbridge leaned forward. “A blatant violation of the rules.”

“And she strips house points when he chooses to do so.” Dumbledore offered. “As she is expected to do when students break the rules.”

“Ten points for such an offense is hardly adequate punishment.”Umbridge snarled.

“According to our school's charter, staff members are free to remove or assign house points using their best judgment,” Dumbledore said. “Granted they catch a student in the act of breaking any of the rules.”

“What do you think the parents of the students would think if they were to learn such things were permitted at Hogwarts, Headmaster?” She said, snidely. “I don't fancy you'd be Headmaster for long.”

“If you wish to challenge me, be my guest,” Dumbledore said, dismissive. “But you are not the only person with the ear of the influential, Miss Umbridge. You'd do well to remember that.”

Umbridge smiled at him. “If that is the way you wish it,” She said, turning toward the door. “Then I'll just contact the Minister about this. We'll see what he has to say.”

Dumbledore waited for a few moments then rose to his feet and left his office. He made his way to the Quidditch Pitch, where the Gryffindor team was practicing.

Faith sat in the bleachers watching the group soar about on their brooms. She turned and saw Dumbledore approach her. “What's up, D?” She asked him, happily. Her mood was soon soured when she saw the look on his face.

He took a seat next to her and sighed. “Umbridge has learned of your and Harry's relationship.”

Faith shrugged. “So?” She looked at the aged wizard. “What can she do about it?”

“She plans on taking it to the Minister.” He offered. He was fairly certain that Faith didn't care. Her love for Harry and his for her would survive anything thrown at it.

Faith shook her head and turned back to the flying students. “Woman's getting on my last nerve.” She snarled.

“She's insufferable, I know.” Dumbledore offered. “But we must put up with her. The Minister can make life difficult for us. He has any number of things he can do. The best course at present is to attempt to keep your liaisons more discreet.”

“If she wants to make hay about it, Harry and I could just move down to Hogsmead. There's a really cute little cottage for sale there. We took a look at it earlier this morning. One bedroom, small kitchen. Perfect for the pair of us.” Faith said. She looked at Dumbledore. “What Harry and I do off school grounds is no one's business but ours.”

Dumbledore grinned. Just like that, Faith had solved her own problem. “Very good point,” He said, shaking his head. “But even then Fudge can still enact more educational decrees. Things could get a lot more unpleasant than they currently are.”

“You know…” Faith began.

“We've already had this discussion, Faith,” Dumbledore said, his voice stern.

Faith chuckled. “Not that I don't see the finality of just hobbling her and leaving her in the woods, that isn't where I was going with it.” She stopped and stared at him. “You know what? Don't worry about it. I'll handle her.”

“What do you mean, you'll handle her?” He asked, cautiously.

“Plausible deniability, big guy,” She said, patting his shoulder. “I'll take care of it.”

“I'll not have you killing her, Faith.” He sounded genuinely worried.

“I'm not gonna hurt her. Trust me.” Faith offered him with a smile. “It's really better if you don't know. I'm gonna make a call.”

“What aren't you telling me?” Dumbledore asked.

“Quite a bit. But it's nothing you need to concern yourself with. I got this.” She shooed him away. “Go on. You have a school to run and I have a phone call to make.”

“Just be discreet,” Dumbledore said. “If Fudge gets word of this, there's going to be hell to pay.”

“That's alright.” Faith said, grinning. “I learned to carry the Devil's currency a long time ago.” She winked at him. “Just in case.”

He rose to his feet and strode away. He cast a glance back at her and shook his head.

Faith watched him go and pulled her cell phone out. She dialed the number for the Watcher's Council.

“Good afternoon, Faith.” Quentin Travers answered, his voice guarded. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

“I've got a problem. And I think it's a better idea that you solve it instead of me.” Faith said to him.

“What manner of problem?” He asked.

“There's a woman here at the school by the name of Dolores Umbridge. I need her gone.”

“And what do you propose I do to remove her?” Quentin asked.

“Send one of your Black Books teams to get rid of her ass.” Faith said. “Not that complicated.”

“Those teams are for…” He began.

“Taking out slayers.” Faith said, somewhat angrily. “You sent them after me twice. They're damn good at what they do. They could sneak into Umbridge's crib and snatch her without anyone even knowing they were there. I know they can.”

“Say I was willing to dispatch a team. There's still the issue of the cloaking spells shrouding Hogwarts from view of anyone but wizards and those magically inclined.”

“For Christ's sake, Q.” Faith said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “You expect me to believe you don't have some supernatural shit on the payroll? Gimme a break. You're way too smart not to.”

Quentin's jaw clenched. “We do indeed. But I don't see…”

“So send a few of those boys. Just get this woman out of here.” Faith said. “She's screwing things up.”

“It isn't as easy as…”

“Q, listen. Bitch needs to get gone. Now either you can do it or I can do it. You said yourself that I'm on probation with you all. That means keeping my nose clean. So I'm reaching out and asking for help. I don't think you want me to have this woman's blood on my hands. Because I'm not screwin' around, Quentin. She keeps coming at me and Harry, I'm gonna end up opening her neck and chucking her into the woods. I know you'd rather avoid that.”

“We do have a team. They're elite, but they're also nigh uncontrollable.” Quentin offered. “They aren't human. Well, not completely.”

“What are they? Demons?” Faith asked.

“Partially.” Quentin offered. “We keep them in reserve because they're dangerous.”

“What exactly do you mean 'nigh-uncontrollable'?” Faith asked.

“It means that if we give them orders, they stop at nothing – and I do mean that in the most literal sense of the word – to accomplish their mission. Law and justice mean nothing to them. They haven't a single shred of remorse or pity. They have no compassion. If something steps in their way, they will not hesitate to destroy it.”

“So these guys are what? Just a bunch of mad dog killer types?” Faith asked.

“More or less,” Quentin responded.

“Why would you have something like that on the roster?”

“Because sometimes one must broker a deal with the Devil to save Heaven,” Quentin said. “These men are the best there is at what they do. But what they do isn't very nice.”

“Do they follow orders?” Faith asked.

“To the letter,” Quentin said. “And  _only_  to the letter. The spirit of their instruction is lost on them. They are as literal as is possible to conceive.”

“So if you were to say, order these dudes not to cut a bloody swath to Umbridge and only incapacitate anyone that tries to stop them without causing any lasting damage, they'd stick to it?”

Quentin nodded. “They would.”

“Sounds like a winning team, then.” Faith said. “Send 'em.”

“Very well,” Quentin said. “I advise you to inform anyone you care for to stay clear of the castle's halls.”

“How will I know when they've shown up?” Faith asked him.

“You won't,” Quentin said. “They operate in complete secrecy. Even I won't know they've accomplished their mission until Umbridge is deposited in my office.”

“They don't have to be gentle with it.” Faith said. “Woman's a bitch.”

“I've heard.” Quentin returned. “I'll keep you posted.”

“Thanks, Quentin.”

“Don't thank me yet,” He said, ending the call.

Faith chuckled and stuffed the phone back in her pocket. It was only a matter of time, now.

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

The halls were silent as the grave. Professor Severus Snape preferred it to remain thus. The night was his time. There was a certain magic in the darkness. And that magic called to him.

He glided through the lightless corridors, small bronze candle holder clutched in his long-fingered hand. His ears were attuned to the sound of Hogwarts School of Wizarding and Witchcraft at night. He knew exactly what he should be hearing – the ticking of the massive clocks in the hallways, the near silent patter of mice scurrying about, the squeaking of the sentient armor, the sleeping paintings – and what he should not.

He stopped, cocking his head to a side. A sound that didn't belong echoed lightly down the hall. It was the sound of a boot scraping on stone. He grinned widely. The chance to catch students in the act always seemed to brighten his rather dull evenings. He quickened his pace and made haste toward the noise.

He had to give them credit. Whoever was prowling the halls after hours was no slouch. They knew the craft of stealth quite well. He moved this way and that, doing his best to track the occasional scratch of sound.

He was certain that they were just up ahead. His smile grew more intense as he rounded the corner. His smugness was firmly in place when he stepped out…

To see six figures, cloaked in black clothing, wearing balaclava masks with some sort of goggles upon their faces.

Now, Snape was no stranger to the concept of Special Forces. And these figures looked every bit the part. He wasn't sure their purpose, but it was clear that something was very, very wrong.

His wand flew from his sleeve into his hand. He brought his arm up as one of the intruders lifted his rifle and leveled at Snape. It was a straight race to see who could get their attack off first.

Snape was a very gifted wizard. He was a dueling professional – not to Flitwick's caliber, perhaps, but accomplished nonetheless – and had speed to spare.

But these men were the elite of the elite. These were the Watcher's Council's best. The men that were called to undertake the missions deemed impossible. They did whatever it took to succeed. And had a record of perfect success.

Snape opened his mouth to cast his spell…but the words never left his throat. A sharp pain shot through his neck. His vision blurred and his world went topsy-turvy as the cold stone of the corridor rushed to meet him.

Hitting the ground with an audible  _thump_  was the last thing he remembered.

Minerva McGonagall loped along silently, patrolling the halls as she had for decades previous in the guise of the gray tabby cat, the animagus form she'd adopted. She knew her fellow Professor, Severus Snape, would likewise be out moving through the school like some great wraith, looking to terrify whatever children saw fit to sneak about.

She smiled inwardly as she thought about the looks on the students faces when the spooky Potions Master emerged from the shadows, looking almost as Dracula to the young and uninitiated.

She rounded a corner and was forced to stop. Her heart missed a beat as she saw the form of the very man she was thinking of.

Professor Snape lay upon the floor of the hall, unconscious. The candle holder he carried lay askew a few inches from his outstretched fingers. His wand was still clutched in his hand.

She could tell that he was in the midst of casting a spell. She quickly transfigured from the form of the cat to her human persona. “Severus?” She asked, quietly, shaking him gently. She received no response from the downed wizard. She wasn't sure what had occurred, but she knew it couldn't be good. She took his arms and pulled him to the side of the hall and rested him against the wall.

She pulled her wand and immediately cast the Rennervate spell. She was shocked beyond belief when the charm did nothing to rouse the sleeping Potions Master. “Damn,” She said, not sure what to do.

She was suddenly very worried. If her magic could not counteract whatever had put the man down then they were dealing with something very, very powerful indeed. “I need help,” She said to herself. She again turned to her animagus form and trotted off.

Her journey led her deeper into the castle. She knew who she needed. She'd been told by numerous students she'd spoken to of their newest Professor's  _gift_ of shrugging off magical hexes. Thus, her trek took her toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

As before, she rounded a corner and was forced to stop. She counted six darkly clad figures in all. Poor Argus Filch smacked onto the floor as the men – she only assumed they were men due to their rather significant sizes – shot him in the throat with some sort of small projectile. One of the men snatched Mrs. Norris up from the floor and stuck the cat with a syringe. The cat let out a small piteous wail before she too was unconscious. She was then tucked under Filch's arm.

She ducked back around the corner and hid in the shadows. She watched the men trot past her, their boots making barely a sound on the stone. She made the decision to follow them. She moved from her hiding place and loped a few paces when she cursed her carelessness.

She counted five men in front of her. She was suddenly gripped by the scruff of her neck and lifted into the air. She was turned to stare at a goggle-clad and masked face. A sharp pain emanated from her side. She felt her world slipping away.

“Sorry, Professor.” A raspy brogue-filled voice sounded from beneath the mask the man was wearing. She was vaguely aware of being stuffed into a sack and dropped to the floor.

Her last thought was only of how undignified she was being treated.

Dolores Umbridge lay in her bed sleeping soundly. Her dreams were that of kittens frolicking on a thick down comforter of pink.

“Wake up, bitch.” A deep guttural voice growled from beside her bed.

Her eyes snapped open. She looked up to see six largely built figures towering over her. She quickly reached for her bedside table…to see the man closest to her holding her stubby wand in his hand. “Looking for this?” He asked, humor filling his voice. As she watched him, terror in his eyes, the man took hold of both ends of the wand and broke it like a twig. “Not that you were all that good with it to begin with.” He cast the broken pieces of wood aside.

“Who are you? What is the meaning of this?” She asked, clutching the blanket up about her chin.

“You're a very naughty woman, Dolores.” He said to her. He then looked to his fellows and nodded.

Strong gloved hands reached down and hauled her from her bed. Clad only in her night clothes, she was cast to the floor of her room with authority. Her chin smacked onto the rock. Her arms were pulled behind her back and she felt something cold and metal clasp tightly about her wrists, securing them firmly in place. “What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”

One of the men lifted her head and stuffed a small ball into her mouth. He then strapped it in place around the back of her head. Finally, a black hood was pulled over her head so she could see nothing.

She then felt herself being dragged painfully to her feet. Helpless, terrified and alone amid the group of attackers, Dolores Umbridge began to cry.

She was half-dragged, half-carried through the halls of the school. She felt the cold autumn air of Northern Scotland through her thin nightgown and understood that she'd been removed from the school in its entirety.

An unfamiliar sound greeted her. A sort of metal sliding across metal. She was lifted and thrown to land upon a hard metallic surface. She continued to whimper and struggle to free herself, but to no avail.

“I don't wanna have to listen to that all the way.” A man growled.

“Fine.” Another said. “Night, night Miss Umbridge.” She felt a sharp pain in her neck. She was unconscious a heartbeat or two later.

Dolores Umbridge came to in a poorly lit room. Through the black hood that covered her face, she could see only one bright light above her head. Feeling slowly came back to her extremities.

Her wrists were still clamped with the same metal restraints that she'd been shackled with before. But now her arms were secured to the thick steel arms of a large chair. Her ankles were likewise held to the front legs.

“Ah, good.” She heard a cultured British voice sound from across the room. “You're awake.” She could hear someone approaching her.

Suddenly the hood was whipped off of her. She had to blink to clear her vision and adjust to the harshness of the light. “Who,” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Who are you?”

He was a tall man with broad shoulders, a bit of a roundness to his mid-section and a head of slightly graying hair. His face was that of someone that was not to be trifled with. “Who I am doesn't matter.” He said, his tone hard. “I've got a few questions for you, Miss Umbridge.”

She squinted to see his face. “What kind of questions?”

“Do keep quiet and don't interrupt. I find brutal interrogations to be rather distasteful. What is your purpose at Hogwarts?”

“I don't understand. What is all of this?” She asked, confusion filling her voice.

He sighed and turned to the side. “Miss Braxton? If you please?”

Dolores looked to see a tall woman, clad in a lavender skirt suit emerge from the darkness. Her thick black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her purple framed glasses sat upon an elegant nose. She was actually quite striking, Umbridge thought. Her mocha colored skin was flawless. The woman also wore a pair of black leather gloves that she was tugging tighter as she approached. The leather creaked.

Umbridge's face was suddenly blasted sideways as the woman backhanded her across the cheek. Pain erupted behind Dolores' eye. She nearly blacked out from the impact.

“I steadfastly refuse to strike a lady. Even one as grotesque and toad-like as yourself.” He said, simply. “But you see, good Ariana here has no such hang-up. Now, again, I ask you. What is your true purpose at Hogwarts?”

Umbridge had to shake her head to clear the cobwebs. Despite the woman named Ariana's lean stature, she hit like a bear. “I am acting on behalf of the Minister of Magic. He wishes me to make certain that the staff and education provided by Hogwarts is as it should be.”

“Then you deny you are there to act as a spy for him?” The man asked. “You are not there to keep him apprised of Professor Lehane, Headmaster Dumbledore, and young Harry Potter's doings?”

“That isn't why he sent me.” Dolores said, shaking her head.

Quentin looked at Ariana and nodded. The tall bronze skinned woman again backhanded Umbridge across the face. This time on the opposite side. The High Inquisitor cried out in pain. “I answered your question.” She said piteously.

“Yes, but you answered falsely.” He said, chuckling. “Now. That was just a test, Miss Umbridge. We already know what your true mission at Hogwarts was. We also know that it won't work.”

She sobbed as she looked at him. “What do you want from me?”

“The truth, Miss Umbridge.” He pointed to Ariana. “And believe me, this young woman is willing to beat it out of you, should it come to it.”

Ariana flexed her fists, causing the leather to creak and her knuckles to pop. She gave Umbridge a very, very sinister grin. It was obvious the idea appealed to the mocha skinned beauty. The visual caused Umbridge to whimper.

“So now that we understand each other, let's begin in earnest, shall we?” He asked. “What does the Ministry know about the current status of the Dark Lord Voldemort?”

“He-he's been defeated. He's dead.” Umbridge sputtered. “For the past decade and a half.”

Quentin sighed and turned to Ariana. The woman nodded and moved toward Umbridge. Her iron hard fist pounded into Umbridge's gut. She let out a strangled grunt and nearly vomited. “That is the Ministry's party line, Miss Umbridge.” He said after his enforcer backed away. “Care to try again?”

“I…I…” She hacked to clear her throat. “We-we have nothing concrete. We've seen no outright evidence of his return. There is talk, but…” She looked at him. “We have no proof that what has transpired in his name is his doing. It could very well be his followers simply refusing to believe his defeat was absolute.”

Quentin rolled her response around in his mind. He had to concede that she was right. Voldemort had always been rather crafty in keeping himself hidden while his followers worked in the broad daylight, unafraid of any true reprisal. “Why the smear campaign in the media against Harry Potter and Headmaster Albus Dumbledore?”

“They are spreading unrest. The wizarding community hangs upon a razor's edge. Both young Potter and Headmaster Dumbledore can present no evidence that the Dark Lord has returned. And as such…”

Quentin snapped his fingers. Ariana let fly with a hard right cross that broke Umbridge's nose and splayed it across her cheek. “Party lines, Miss Umbridge.” He sighed. “Try again.”

She coughed and hiccupped as she struggled to breathe. Ariana stepped up and gripped Umbridge's nose and pulled, snapping it back into place. “Count to ten.” She said, her voice smooth and cultured. “You should be able to breathe better.”

“I would breathe better if you would quit striking me.” Umbridge snarled.

Ariana gripped her throat and glared into her eyes. “I would quit striking you if you would cease lying.” She released her and stepped back.

“Again, Miss Umbridge. Why the smear campaign?”

“Because…” She sniffed and lowered her eyes. “Because the Minister and his close inner circle do not want the Dark Lord's return to be true.” She looked at him, tearful. “Denying it makes it easier to believe.”

“So…if you vilify Harry Potter and Headmaster Dumbledore, it makes it easier for you to deny Voldemort's return?” Quentin asked. “So you're afraid?”

“Yes.” Umbridge said, softly.

“Do you, Dolores Umbridge, believe that the Dark Lord Voldemort has returned?”

Slowly, she shook her head. “No.” She said, firmly. “I do not.”

“So Harry Potter was lying?” Quentin asked her.

“I believe very much that young Harry believes what he says he saw.” She explained. She spat a gobbet of blood on the floor. “But I do not believe that Harry saw what he thinks he saw. He was far too young to have taken part in the tournament. He'd just gone through quite an ordeal. And he'd just seen a boy drop dead. That is a rather traumatic experience. What he says he saw must have seemed very real to him. But it is my belief that it was an elaborate… hallucination or fever dream that his mind created to shield himself from something truly terrible.”

Quentin crossed his arms. “Tell me why Cornelius Fudge fears Dumbledore, even though he has no interest in his position.”

“Just because Dumbledore doesn't covet the Minister's position, doesn't mean he doesn't want control of the Ministry entire.” Umbridge offered.

Quentin had to concede that. “Why would he want control of the Ministry? Headmaster Dumbledore doesn't strike me as a greedy and power hungry man.”

“Then you do not know him as well as you think.” Umbridge said, her tone stone hard.

“Oh, I think I do.” Quentin said, smiling. “The Minister of Magic is a puppet position at best. A figurehead and little more. Cornelius Fudge, for all of his vaunted power, must still answer to the Prime Minister and to the Crown. As do we all. He hasn't the authority to effect any kind of significant change. Headmaster Dumbledore knows that. Such is why he has no interest in the position. Instead, he chooses to influence future generations. Teaching the lessons that he wishes them to learn can shape the future of wizarding Britain.” He moved over and rested his hands on the arms of the chair, leaning into Umbridge's face. “And what's worse, is that the Minister, at present, is playing right into Voldemort's hands.”

Umbridge furrowed her brow. “He's long dead.”

“Voldemort has indeed returned, Miss Umbridge.”

“I don't believe that.” She said, softly.

“I know you don't. And so does Voldemort. It is that very belief that is allowing him to amass his forces and solidify his plans. You believe nothing, therefore, you will do nothing. Your negligence is his ally.” He grinned like a skull. “There is a very old saying, dear Dolores. Not believing in the Devil will not protect you from him.” He stepped away from her. “I believe I have learned everything from you I need to.”

“What are you going to do with me?” She asked, terrified.

“Something very… _muggle_.” He turned to Ariana and again nodded his head.

The enforcer smiled and reached into her blazer. She withdrew a massive chrome plated .50 Desert Eagle semi-automatic pistol. She drew back the slide and began walking toward Umbridge.

“Oh, for the love of god, Ariana. Must you use that monstrosity?” Quentin asked.

“You survived listening to Genesis, you can survive this.” She said, annoyed.

“I'll have you know I like a lot of Genesis' work.” Quentin said, furrowing his brow.

“King Crimson?” Ariana asked, raising an eyebrow. He groaned and shook his head, turning away toward the door of the room. “Thought so.” She returned her attention to Dolores Umbridge. “Time to say good night, Miss Umbridge.” She drew back and cracked the woman across the jaw with the pistol, sending blood and teeth into the air. “Just had to remind you where you really fell in the food chain.” She then pressed the barrel of the gun against the woman's temple. “Goodbye.”

She pulled the trigger.

There was nothing but a massive hole in Dolores Umbridge's head where her life had been.

 


	17. Chapter 17

Faith groaned as her cellular phone rang into the bedroom. She reached for it blindly.

“What is that?” Harry asked, groggily.

“Phone.” Faith returned. Her fingers closed around it and she hit the button, pressing it to her ear. “Yeah, Faith.”

“Sorry to wake you.” Quentin's voice said from the other end.

“S'alright.” Faith said, sitting up and wiping her eyes. “What's up?” She asked him. She looked over and saw the steaming cup of coffee sitting on her nightstand. She smiled and reached for it, taking a sip. “Gotta love house elves.” She said to herself.

“I've got some news for you. Felt you should hear it from me.” Quentin said. “It's done.”

Faith furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about? What's done?”

“Umbridge,” Quentin said. “She's been removed.”

“No shit?” Faith asked. “When?”

“Last night.” He returned. “She and I had a conversation. Apparently everything we thought about the Ministry is true. Minister Fudge and his cabinet are doing their best to deny Voldemort's return out of fear that it might be true. Umbridge doesn't believe he's returned at all.”

“Did you find out if she was the one that set the Dementors on Harry back at the beginning of the summer?” Faith asked.

“Bloody hell,” Quentin said, groaning. “I didn't ask her that.”

“Would have been nice to know, but I suppose at the moment it really doesn't matter.” Faith said. “What happened to her?”

“Do you truly wish to know?” He asked, making certain.

“Oh yeah.” Faith said. “In light of what I was going to do to her, there's nothing you could…”

“I had her brains blown out,” Quentin said, simply. “Her corpse was thrown into the incinerator downstairs. The same we use to dispose of demon bodies when we finish examining them.”

“Good riddance.” Faith said. “Woman was pissing us off.”

“I'm not sure what kind of fallout you'll face from this.” Quentin offered. “I'm sure there'll be some.”

“Oh, so am I.” Faith said. “But I'll chew that food when I have to. Right now, I'm just glad this bitch is gone. I've got a hard enough time teaching these kids without having that bitch breathing down everyone's neck.” She thought about something. “You know, the Minister is somehow going to find a way to blame Dumbledore and Harry for this, don't you?”

Quentin sighed. “I hadn't thought of that, but you're probably right.”

“Any chance of him being taken out?” Faith asked. “If it worked for Umbridge…”

“You're talking about one of the most powerful men in the wizarding world,” Quentin said. “Abducting a woman from a school hundreds of miles away from the Ministry's sphere of influence is one thing, but Minister Fudge if a fairly well-protected man.”

“I figure if your boys are as good as you say they are, they could pull it off.” Faith said. “But if you were just spouting bullshit…” She knew that she was playing the old man just a touch, and part of her felt a little guilty about it, but another part of her didn't really mind so much. After all, he had been manipulating people for decades. The tables being turned on him was something he might have deserved just a little.

Quentin furrowed his brow. He knew full well what she was doing…and he was going to fall for it hook, line and sinker. “The team that handled Umbridge is the best there is. No question. But this is something that has to be handled very delicately. If it's not properly undertaken, it could end up turning everyone against both Harry and Dumbledore. The public outcry could be disastrous.”

Faith nodded. “Yeah, it could. But you're Quentin Travers, the head of the Watcher's Council. You can handle it.” She said to him. “Let me know if you need any help on my end.”

“Very well,” Quentin said, ending the call.

She was actually quite proud of herself. To know that she could position the old Watcher right where she wanted him made her feel pretty damn good. An envelope suddenly slid under the bedroom door. Faith cocked her head and got up. She moved over and picked it up, looking it over. “What is this?” She asked, flipping the red envelope over in her hand.

“It's a Howler,” Harry said, sitting up in bed. “Best open it and see what it says.”

Faith pulled the little red tab from the front. The envelope floated into the air and folded itself in the likeness of a mouth. “Faith…” Dumbledore's voice came from the floating stationary. “If you would be so kind as to come see me in my office as soon as possible, it would be greatly appreciated. It is rather serious, I'm afraid.” After delivering the message, the paper disintegrated and fell about the floor in pieces.

“That sounds serious,” Harry said. “Best not to keep him waiting.”

Faith nodded. “Good point.” She moved over and pecked Harry on the lips. “I'll see you in class.” She gathered her clothes and went in to take a shower.

She entered Dumbledore's office a half hour later. Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Argus Filch were all sitting about, looking at her with looks ranging from annoyance to open disdain. “Um…I couldn't have done anything to piss anyone off. I just got up.” She said, looking around the room.

“Please, have a seat,” Dumbledore said, pointing to the chair across from his desk. She did as he asked, looking at the remaining three staffers. “We had a rather peculiar occurrence last night.”

“Okay.” Faith said. “What does it have to do with me?”

“Because it was your doing.” Snape snapped.

She looked at him. “Okay.” She said, looking at him. “Why don't you tell me what happened, then explain how miraculously it was my fault?”

“Last night a group of masked individuals entered the school unbidden and assaulted these three,” Dumbledore said. “According to Severus, here they were clad in…” He looked at the man. “I'm sorry.”

“They were dressed as muggle Special Forces Soldiers.” He said, looking right at Faith. “No doubt agents of that infernal Watcher's Council of yours.”

Faith wasn't quite sure what to say. So she said nothing.

“Have you nothing to say for yourself?” He asked, growling.

“What do you want me to say?” Faith said. “I didn't hire 'em. I didn't send 'em.” She looked at Dumbledore. “Hey, look man. I'm sorry if anyone got hurt, but it has nothing to do with me. I don't control what the Watcher's Council does. They do what they want. Just because I'm a slayer doesn't mean I have any kind of actual pull. I just go where they point and do what they say. Not the other way around.”

“So they weren't here at your behest?” Dumbledore asked. He and Faith both knew that it was  _precisely_  because of Faith's suggestion that the men were at Hogwarts.

“All I did was call Quentin and tell him how much Umbridge was pissing me off. I did share what she was doing and that she was probably spying for the Minister. What he did with the information is on him.”

McGonagall sighed. “So you admit that…”

Faith cut her off. “Oh, no.” She said, shaking her head. She was getting pissed. “Don't even fuckin' go there.” She let out a sharp breath. “Look. I've got anger problems. I'll cop to that. When Trollbrige first showed up, I wanted nothing more than to haul off and knock her damn teeth down her throat, but I didn't. I kept my shit in check. I was a good girl and, because of all of you, didn't fuck her world up. Given what I could have done, I think that's damn noble of me. But I'm not gonna let you all sit here and vilify me because of something some guy in a brownstone five hundred miles away decided to do. Is it what I told him that prompted him to send a goon squad up here? Yeah, probably. But I didn't order him to do it. And I really wasn't sure what he was going to do. I just needed someone to talk to. And given that I'm on the man's payroll, I figured he was my best bet. He knows how hard I'm trying to keep my nose clean.”

“It's okay, Faith. No one is blaming you.” Dumbledore said. He specifically looked at Snape and Filch. “No one was hurt, except for a little bit of damage to their pride.”

“I'm not happy about the precedent.” Snape snarled. “To know that Muggles can simply waltz into Hogwarts and assault the staff…”

“That does beg the question,” Filch said, his voice unusually restrained. He'd been quiet up until now. “How did they get in? I thought Muggles weren't able to see this school, let alone enter it.”

Dumbledore had to admit, the question had merit. “That is a fair point.”

Faith decided to come at least  _partially_  clean. “The Watcher's Council has been around for centuries. In that time, you don't think they've collected people and artifacts that would let them see this place? We're talking about people that make their living being experts on the supernatural. Hogwarts and the Wizarding world as a whole kinda falls into that category. Trust me. They probably had blueprints of this place.”

“Wait a moment,” Snape said, leaning forward. “How did you know that they were here for Umbridge if you had no knowledge of them?”

Faith looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “It's called deduction, Snape. I called Quentin. I bitched about Umbridge and the next night a wet team showed up. Not really that hard to figure out.”

Snape gave her a glare and leaned back in his chair. “So who are you going to have removed next?” He asked her. “Does everyone have to walk around now, kissing your feet and worshiping the ground you walk on? Lest you make a phone call and someone goes missing in the night?”

Faith looked at him. “I don't know, asshole. Why don't you keep pissing me off and we'll find out.” She said, sharply. She was getting really tired of his accusatory attitude. “Or maybe, with you, I'll just snap that wand of yours and stuff it up your ass. How about that?”

Snape narrowed his eyes and stared at her with challenge in his expression. “You can try.”

“That's enough,” Dumbledore said. “I'll not have my staff members at each other's throats.”

“This is a serious problem, Headmaster,” McGonagall said. “No matter Faith's involvement, the Ministry is going to learn that Umbridge is gone and they're going to want to know how it happened. They'll send someone to investigate. What are we to tell them?”

Dumbledore looked at her. “The truth. A small party of intruders managed to gain entry to the school and made off with her in the night. We know nothing beyond that. We don't know, with absolute certainty who was behind the abduction or the identity of the intruders. They seemed to have an agenda, that much we know. Beyond that?” He shook his head.

“But Faith does know,” Snape said. “You would have her lie.”

Faith looked at him. “Look, shithead. I got people to answer to that don't have anything to do with this school. There ain't nothin' in my jacket that says I gotta dime on them to you. As a matter of fact, last I checked you weren't any higher on the food chain in this school than I was. So unless you got a promotion that I wasn't aware of, shut the fuck up.”

“Professors? You can go back to your classrooms and prepare for your lessons.” Dumbledore said, with an exasperated sigh. “Faith, I'd like you to stay, if you would.”

McGonagall, Snape, and Filch all rose to their feet and left the office. Minerva patted Faith on the shoulder, letting her know that she had no hard feelings. Snape didn't even so much as look at her. Filch glowered at her. But then he glowered at everyone so she took it with a grain of salt.

After they were alone, Dumbledore stared at Faith a moment. “Who were they?” He asked her. He'd dropped all pretense. As far as he was concerned, it was a breach of security and he needed to know the extent. The safety of everyone at Hogwarts was  _his_  responsibility. He didn't like things outside of his control.

“What it says on the tin.” Faith said. “They were a Watcher Council snatch team.”

“How were they able to get past the anti-muggle charms and wards?” Dumbledore asked.

“Because they weren't exactly human. From my read in the landscape, they were more likely as not some sort of half-demons or something. Council only uses them when they have to. Something supernatural in them allows them to see this place, just like me.” She shrugged. “I mean, I can't be exactly specific given that I've never met any of them. I'm just going off of what Quentin said.”

“Do you know what happened to Dolores after she was taken from here?” He asked. Faith nodded. “Would you care to enlighten me?”

Faith shook her head. “Nope. Plausible deniability. The less you know, the less you'll have to lie about it.”

Dumbledore accepted the answer. “If you desired, could you have this team abduct anyone else?”

“If Snape keeps pissing me off, I might consider it. He's seriously getting on my nerves.” Faith offered. “I know he's a good Potions Professor, but the man's an asshole.”

“I have my reasons for keeping him about,” Dumbledore said, softly.

“That may be, but he keeps it up and I'm gonna fuck his world up.” Faith said. “Just because he's on your good side doesn't give him free reign to keep giving me shit. Son of a bitch is gonna look pretty stupid teaching his class with no teeth.”

Dumbledore groaned. “McGonagall is right. Soon there's going to be an inquest upon the disappearance of Miss Umbridge.”

Faith shrugged. “That's alright. They won't find anything. Nothing can be traced to anyone at this school. These guys are professionals. They didn't leave anything behind, trust me.”

“Then I'll leave it at that,” Dumbledore said. “Just…one more thing.” He said, leaning forward. “This better not be repeated. Snape was right. I'm not a fan of the precedent this sets. To know that these people can just walk into this school is going to be hard for a lot of teachers to accept.”

Faith nodded. “I hear you. As long as Fudge keeps his goons out of our way, I'm fine with leaving well enough alone.”

“That's all I wanted. Have a good day, Faith.” Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair.

Faith left his office and made her way down to the great hall for breakfast. She was incredibly hungry.

She did notice that people were talking about the fact that Dolores Umbridge was gone. Normally, she would attend breakfast to smile sweetly and sip her tea among the staffers. But now she was nowhere to be found and her absence had been noticed.

There were murmurs in the room of intruders in the castle in the night. 'Death Eaters' was thrown around pretty liberally.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry all looked at Faith for some sort of confirmation, but she simply shrugged and shook her head.

Harry groaned and rubbed his forehead. A dull throbbing pain had developed over his right eye.

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked him.

He looked at her and gave her a smile. “I'm fine. Just a headache.” He took a bite of his pancakes and looked back at his girlfriend.

Faith sat chatting with Flitwick as she wolfed down a plate loaded with bacon, sausage, and hashbrowns.

 

Faith was leaning against her desk, juggling a trio of apples when the fifth years came into the room. Behind her, sat a large basket of similar ripe red apples. The children all took their seats. Tonks was sitting in the chair behind the desk, asleep.

Harry dropped down beside Draco. The blonde boy looked at him with indifference and back to Faith. He then raised his hand.

“Malfoy? You had a question?” She asked, pointing to him.

“What happened to Inquisitor Umbridge?” He asked her. “Professor Snape says you called someone and had her killed.”

Faith chuckled as the rest of the students began murmuring amongst themselves. Harry just groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Bloody prat.” He said, quietly.

“Is that  _actually_  what he said or are you paraphrasing?” Faith asked him. “Be honest, blondie.”

“He said that people around the school better watch their P's and Q's with you because you can make a phone call and make people disappear. You'd done so with Miss Umbridge.”

“Does anyone believe that?” Faith asked. “Show of hands. Don't be shy, it isn't gonna hurt my feelings.” A large portion of the Slytherin students raised their hands and a few Gryffindors did as well. “Okay. Twenty points from your house for every hand raised.” All of the hands shot down. She laughed heartily. “I'm kidding. I'm not gonna strip points for you being honest. Truth is this.” She said, dropping the apples into the basket. “I have no idea what happened to her. I really don't. I'm just as in the dark as you guys. I wasn't out in the halls when these guys supposedly showed up and I don't know what they were after. What I  _do_  know is that someone very powerful and very angry sent an unknown amount of people into the school last night and made off with Dolores Umbridge. Who they were, what they intended for her and where they took her, I couldn't tell you.” She looked at Draco. “Satisfy your curiosity?”

He shrugged and nodded. “I suppose so.”

“Good.” She said. “Now. Wands out. It's time for a little destruction.” She pulled out an apple. “Target practice.” She grinned. “The bigger the mess you make with your apple, the more points your house gets.”

The kids were all very happy to hear that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, Harry Potter and the Golden Ring is on hiatus for a while. I've got a few other projects that are taking my attention at the moment. But fear not, I'm not abandoning the story. I will continue it, you have my promise. For now, I'll be updating Alexia the Vampire Slayer, Seconds Chances and this particular story on the regular.   
> Thanks for your patience.


	18. Chapter 18

 

Harry happily moved about his room, gathering some clothing and toiletries for the Hogsmead weekend. It had been almost a month since Dolores Umbridge's disappearance.

Minister Fudge had dispatched a team of Aurors, led by none other than Kingsley Shacklebolt to investigate. The man did his due diligence and interviewed all of those that were witnesses to the intruders or victims of their attack.

The principals gave statements of men cloaked in black carrying strange armaments. A thorough search of the surrounding area was undertaken and after several days, not a trace of the woman was found.

With no more information than they arrived with, the Aurors left, carrying what little they'd learned back to the Ministry. That was a little over two weeks ago. They'd heard nothing from the Ministry since.

And Harry couldn't be happier about it. With Umbridge gone, things at Hogwarts were better than ever. Faith was hitting her stride as a teacher. Thanks to Tonks' aid, she was showing them all how to use spells for a variety of different purposes, they were getting into shape and they were learning actual combat skills.

Draco and Harry were even being somewhat civil to each other in the hallways. Harry couldn't remember the last time the younger Malfoy had flung an insult at him. They met up every other day in the library to do their homework and were getting relatively good marks.

Harry could scarcely believe it. He tucked his invisibility cloak into his pack, mostly for security than anything else and buckled the pack closed, hoisting it onto his shoulder. He moved down the stairs from the boy's dorm and into the Gryffindor common room. A few of the students were lounging about. Ron was sitting with a seventh-year student playing a game of chess. Harry moved over and patted him on the shoulder. “You coming to Hogsmead this weekend, Ron?”

“Not just yet. I'm going to have dinner first. Might come down tomorrow. Got a few sickles to spend at Honeydukes.”

“Alright, then,” Harry said. “I'm off. I'll see you tomorrow then.”

“Lucky sod,” Ron said, shaking his head and turning back to the game.

“I know.” The other student offered.

Harry stepped out of the common room, past the fat lady's portrait and was near to the stairs when he felt someone grab hold of his arm and pull him to the side. His backpack slid from his shoulder as he was tugged off balance. He spun and slammed into the wall back first.

He looked to see Hermione's forearm pressed against his chest and her brown eyes staring angrily at him. “Um…if you wanted a moment alone you could have asked.” He said to her.

“You bullheaded, brainless oaf!” Hermione snapped. “I ought to punch you in your fool head.”

“Not that I'm doubting I have it coming…for some reason, I'm sure. But could you, at least, tell me why?” Harry asked her.

“I've been busting my butt to earn our house points and in the past  _three_  weeks, you've lost us almost a hundred and fifty points!” She said, stepping back. “All of my hard work is being thrown into the toilet.” She pointed to him. “By  _you_!”

Harry sighed and leaned against the wall. She was right. His nightly forays to spend the night with Faith cost his house ten points every time he did it. Faith did subtract the points as she was supposed to. But she never, not once, made him return to his dorm.

Because she knew full well what awaited them both when they spent the evenings apart. “You don't know what it's like, Hermione,” Harry said to her. He looked into her eyes. “When I'm alone I see that night. I relive it over and over again.”

“What night, Harry?” She asked him.

“That night in the cemetery. The night Cedric died. I watch Voldemort kill home again and again and I'm…” He closed his eyes and fought back the tears. “I'm helpless to stop it. I want to. I want things to be different in my dreams, but I can't. It's always the same.” He let out a breath and did his best to calm himself down. “But when I'm with Faith, when I'm lying beside her, I just…” He smiled. “I can dream of things that aren't death and darkness. I can be happy.” He looked at her again. “She makes the nightmares go away.”

She listened to him and couldn't help but feel for him. When he told her and Ron of what happened that night, they believed him full stop. It had never occurred to them not to. Having to watch Cedric die was a horrible experience, especially for someone so young. But to have to relive it every time he closed his eyes, she honestly couldn't imagine a worse kind of hell. “I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't know.”

“That's alright, Hermione. I should have said something. It was somewhat selfish of me to just do as pleased and not…”

“No,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “If sleeping with Faith makes you not have to see those horrible images, then that's just something we'll have to deal with. I'll just have to try harder and earn more points.” She patted his shoulder. “You deserve happiness, Harry. It's something that, of late has been in short supply.”

“Thanks, 'Mione.” He said, hugging her. “Has there been any word on if they're sending a replacement Inquisitor?”

Hermione shook her head. “Not yet. I know people are talking. But it's all gossip.”

“Alright, then. Are you coming to Hogsmead this weekend?” Harry asked.

“Possibly tomorrow.” She said. “I've got some studying to get done.”

“I'll see you later,” Harry said, hugging her again.

He grabbed his bag off the floor and moved down the stairs, toward the large main doors. He'd just about reached them when they were flung open in grand fashion.

Harry's heart went numb and his blood went cold. Standing, framed by the setting sun, stood a man that he could have gone to his grave happy to never have seen again.

The patriarch of the Malfoy family stood in all of his black-clad glory in the doorway with a very, very disturbing superior smile upon his face. He locked eyes with Harry and immediately looked around the room. Seeing that the pair were alone, his confidence grew. “Well, well, well. Harry Potter.” Lucius said, strolling up to the boy. “It is good to see you again.”

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Harry asked him, circling to keep away from him.

“I wasn't aware I had to answer to you, Potter,” Lucius said, narrowing his eyes.

“You think you don't have to answer to anyone, Lucius. That's your problem.” Harry returned. “And it's one that'll get you into trouble.”

“I assume you're talking about that little harlot of a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor of yours.” He said, giving a smug smile when he saw the words struck a cord.

Harry, however, understood that game as well. “If anyone is an expert on harlots, it would be you. You did  _marry_  one after all.”

“Watch your mouth, Potter,” Lucius said, his voice low. “As the new High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, you will show respect.”

Harry suddenly knew all he needed to know. He smiled widely and headed for the doors. “Be careful that you don't overstep your bounds, Luscious. Remember why  _you're_  here and Umbridge isn't.”

“Just where do you think you're going?” Lucius snarled.

“To Hogsmead,” Harry said.

“I don't think I'll let you do that.” The man said, grinning. “I'm placing you on detention for the weekend.”

“Good luck with that,” Harry said, continuing to walk.

“You step past those doors, you're expelled. Mark my words, Potter. Your wand, broken and you'll be thrown from this school faster that you can spit.”

Harry waved to him. “See you Sunday night, Luscious,” Harry said, laughing.

He made the half hour long walk down the hill toward Hogsmead village to the Three Broomsticks. He entered the pub to see, aside from the usual crowd, Faith sitting at the bar sipping a tankard of Butterbeer and chatting up Madam Rosmerta, the friendly owner, and proprietor of the establishment.

Faith said something that made the woman laugh and slap the girl playfully on the arm. “God, you keep me young.” She said, shaking her head. “Looks like your man is here.” She waved to Harry and poured another Butterbeer from the draft and set it down for him. “You look like you could use this.”

He sat down and put his pack down on the seat beside him. “And how.” He said, taking a long pull of the cold frothy beverage. “Always makes me feel better.” He lifted it and smiled at her. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure, Harry.” She said, happily. “I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. Same room as always?” She asked.

“Please.” Faith said. She turned to Harry. “You okay, baby?”

“Yeah. Just some unwelcome news.” He sighed heavily. “Umbridge's replacement arrived.”

“Only a matter of time.” Faith said, shrugging. “Who is it? Anyone, we know?”

“Lucius Malfoy,” Harry said. “I personally can't think of anyone worse.”

“Old Luscious, huh?” She snorted. “Piece of cake. He's gonna be so easy to deal with, it isn't even funny.” She shook her head. “Right smear campaign and the Minister won't have any choice but to remove his ass.”

“He's got the ear of some influential people…” Harry began.

Faith pressed a finger to his lips and shook her head. “Yeah, but he's not  _Ministry_. The man's so easy to piss off it's unreal. Especially when he learns that he doesn't have any real authority. His entire deal is going to be doing everything he can to get rid of me and Dumbledore. We're already protected. No one else really has anything to worry about as long as everyone is doing their jobs.” She pulled him in and kissed him. “Don't sweat it. He's an empty shirt.”

Harry decided that he was going to do just that. He was alone with the woman of his dreams, sipping the best Butterbeer in England. Life was good. “Hermione cornered me today.”

“Really?” Faith asked, raising an eyebrow. “You both better have only been talkin'.”

Harry furrowed his brow. “Gods, no.”

Faith shook her head and went back to her drink. “I wonder when she's gonna realize she's a lesbian.”

“What?” Harry asked, not entirely sure he'd heard what he thought he'd heard.

“Hermione.” Faith said. “Girl's a full tilt lesbian. I just don't think she realizes it yet.”

“Not to doubt your skills of observation and deduction, but how can you possibly know whether or not Hermione Granger is gay?” Harry asked. “I've known her for years and she's never come across as gay. Not once.”

“Oh, she hides it well.” Faith said. “But I know the signs. I've always been pretty good at reading people. The first thing I've noticed is that she tends to stare at females more than males. When everyone is suited up and doing our hand to hand, she doesn't look at the boys much. Her eyes tend to linger on the girls. Yeah, most people would just pass it off as comparing goods, but that ain't what she's doing. She's checking chicks out. And her type seems to be petite girls.”

Harry was dumbfounded. “Again, I ask how do you know that?”

“Because she chats up that fourth year, Luna all the time.” Faith grinned. “I'm sure she thinks it's innocent, but I know what moon eyes look like. And those two got it bad.”

Harry groaned and rubbed his face in his hands. “Ron is going to go ballistic when he finds out. I think he really likes her.”

“I don't know. Ron's a cute dude, dork-ass notwithstanding. He'll find someone. Lavender seems to like him.”

“I suppose.” Harry returned.

“So what did she say?” Faith asked him.

“Hm?” Harry asked, looking at her.

“Hermione. What did she say? You said she cornered you in the hall. What did she want?”

“Oh. She was upset because of all of the house points I'm losing. I've lost almost a hundred and fifty in the past three weeks.”

Faith smiled. “Well, you  _are_  sneaking out after hours and getting caught.” She took a sip of her drink. “You wanna dance, you gotta pay the band.”

“I told her the reason I spend my nights with you,” Harry said, his voice low. “I don't like seeing it. I don't wanna have to live through that again. With you, I don't.”

Faith nodded, taking his hand in hers. “I hear you, baby. I sleep a lot better next to you than I ever did on my own.” She slammed the rest of her beverage and let out a belch. Rosmerta looked at her from the other end of the bar and chuckled, before going back to work. “Come on. I wanna get the weekend started. Hey, Rosie?”

The woman nodded and waved her off. “Ribs and Roasted reds in a couple of hours.” She said, knowing the routine. “Have fun.”

The patrons of the pub watched as Faith dragged Harry up the stairs. “Lucky sod.” One of the men said, going back to his cup.

 

Dumbledore wasn't the least bit surprised to see Lucius Malfoy rise into his office from the floor below. “Master Malfoy. To what do I owe the pleasure?” From the look on the man's face, it was obvious he was incensed.

He strode purposefully up to Dumbledore's desk and slammed his cane down onto the floor. “Harry Potter is to be expelled immediately.” The man said, angrily.

“For what egregious offense, might I ask?” Dumbledore leaned back in his chair steepled his fingers.

“He violated my command that he not go to Hogsmead. I ordered him to serve weekend detention and he completely disregarded my instruction. I want him brought back to the school  _at once_  and thrown out on his ear.”

“I see.” Dumbledore offered. “And pray tell, what exactly were you giving him detention for?”

“Disrespect,” Lucius said, simply. “He decided to speak ill of my family and I gave him detention because of it.”

“And you of course said and did nothing to warrant such an insult from a  _fifteen-year-old boy_ , I'm assuming?” Dumbledore, unlike most others Lucius was used to dealing with afforded the man little respect. He found nothing about Lucius Malfoy intimidating. The man had ties to the Dark Lord and both men knew it. Yes, at present, Lucius had the ear of the Minister, but loyalties, when men like Voldemort were concerned could change with the wind. The right or wrong words to the right or wrong person could make or break not only a person but a family and said family's entire legacy.

Lucius knew that just as well as Dumbledore. “What I may or may not have said is of no consequence.” The Malfoy patriarch chided. “Harry Potter is a student attending this school and must be made to show respect.”

“And as staff members of this school, we are to lead by example, Master Malfoy. You would do well to remember that.” Dumbledore said. “If you feel Mister Potter spoke out of face, you may strip house points. That is in part what they are there for.” He leaned forward and held up a long narrow finger. “But, understand that I  _will_  be thoroughly investigating  _any_  points you wish to remove. Whether or not you have influence with the Ministry has no bearing here, Malfoy. You are here as an observer and nothing more. I will see to it that the students respect your wishes, but ultimately, I  _am_  the Headmaster of this school. If I find that you are abusing your position, as Umbridge was wont to do, I will flex what political power I do have and see you appropriately punished for your actions. I can and  _will_  see you removed from Hogwarts. Do I make myself clear?”

Malfoy looked at him and narrowed his eyes. “You have no political power.”

“There are still those within the Ministry that hold my name in high esteem. That and the fact that the Prime Minister himself has guaranteed my position for the foreseeable future would strongly suggest otherwise, don't you agree?” Dumbledore said, his face stern. “But if you are so doubting, we can send an owl and see what is what.” He rose to his feet. “What is it to be, Malfoy? To the owlery, then?”

Lucius groaned and shook his head. “That won't be necessary. The Minister has already briefed me on your and Professor Lehane's rather… _unique_ position. But rest assured I will be watching closely. And if young Harry missteps in a fashion I don't like, I'll crucify him.”

“You are more than welcome to try, Lucius,” Dumbledore said. “Good luck on your new posting. Given what happened to the last High Inquisitor, you'll most likely need it.”

Lucius furrowed his brow. “The reports stated that you knew nothing of what befell Dolores Umbridge.”

“I do not. But given that neither hide nor hair of her has ever been found, one can only logically assume it was something unpleasant.” Dumbledore said. “And it would be such a shame if something unpleasant were to happen to you.”

“Yes,” Lucius said, turning to leave the office. “A shame.”

 

Faith lay on the large bed, sweat soaking her flushed skin. Harry nestled in beside her, still panting softly. His lean form still shuddered slightly. He looked up at her. How absolutely beautiful she seemed to him. “Faith?”

She turned her head to regard him. “What, baby?”

“I know it's early to speak of it, but…have you ever considered marriage before?” He bit his lip as he gazed into her eyes.

She shook her head. “Nah. I haven't.” She reached over and brushed his hair from his eyes. “I mean not  _before_. Being a slayer doesn't exactly carry a whole lotta confidence that I'm gonna see old age, you know?”

“You think you'll die young?” Harry asked her.

“Pretty much guarantee it.” Faith said. “I mean, of all the people I've ever met, only two have really been able to understand that.” She pulled him in and kissed him. “One of those people is you.”

Harry smiled at her. “Who was the other?”

“Buffy.” Faith said.

“You know…when you talk about her, you get this little tick in your cheek.” Harry said, laying his head on her shoulder and poking her dimple. “It's quite adorable.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Faith said, chuckling. “I never told you this.” She began. “I remember a time when I think I might have actually loved her.”

“Really?” He was somewhat surprised by that. “You seem so angry when you talk about her.”

“Being with you now, I know what we had wasn't love, but it was something. Maybe at some point, you'll get to meet her. For all the shit I talk and the crap I throw her way when you get right down to it, she's a pretty good person. She fucks up a lot of the time and yeah, she takes her friends and family for granted, but she does try. I can see now that a lot of the problems we had was just…” She let out a heavy emotional sigh. “She'd just been through an emotional rollercoaster, then here I came into town all kick-ass sex and violence. She blamed herself for Kendra's death and was just kinda makin' peace with it all. Then there I was, a dancin', fightin' reminder that she couldn't save her sister slayer. That's gotta be hard for someone as straight-laced as Buffy was. Unlike Kendra, who from what I'd been told, was all business, I was the loose one. Buffy, to me, seemed all work and no play. I was kinda B's 'road not taken', you know?” She shrugged. “She was right. I never made it easy for her to get close to me.”

“Sounds to me like you both were just too young to understand how to deal with each other,” Harry said to her. He sat up and reached into the pocket of Faith's jacket and pulled out her cell phone and turned offering it to her. He looked into her eyes but said nothing.

Faith sat up and took it, nodding. She again dialed the blonde slayer's number.

“Hello?” Buffy answered, shuffling books from one arm to the other.

“B?” Faith said.

“What do you want, Faith?” Buffy snapped. “Call to piss me off again? Tell me how little anything I say…”

“I'm sorry.” Faith said. “I'm sorry for what I did to you. For Angel, for turning on all of you when you needed me most and for blaming you when I got out of my coma. And I'm sorry for what I pulled after that.” She felt the warm moisture of tears forming.

Harry moved over and knelt behind her, wrapping his arms around her. She rested her hand on his.

Buffy for her part stopped in the middle of the quad and stood there, not exactly sure she'd heard what she'd thought. “Faith?”

“Yeah, B. It's me. And I'm serious. I had a lot of problems. When I showed up there after D was killed, I was a messed up kid. I didn't trust and just couldn't open up. You all were trying in your own way, I see that now. I was too young and too fucked up to get it then, but I do now.” Faith sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I'm so sorry, Buffy.”

“Faith, I…” Buffy didn't know what to say. “I thought you hated me, Faith. I was prepared for you to hate me.”

“I did. For a while, I did hate you. But it wasn't for the right reasons. It wasn't because of anything you did. It was because of what you had. You had what I thought I'd never find. A life, a family, friends. I didn't realize that you guys could have been that, could have given me that, if only I'd have let you.” She let out a sob. “I could have loved you, Buffy.”

“What?”

“You know that love you and Angel have?” Faith asked her. “That kind of love that makes you all weak in the knees and shit? The kind of love that makes your heart sing when the person is near you and miss them like hell when they're not?” She turned to look at Harry. “I have that now, B. And there won't be a moment goes by that I won't regret trying to take that from you.”

“Why did you try to kill Angel, Faith?”

“I didn't wanna kill him, B. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to suffer.”

“Why?”

“Because he had something I'd never have.” Faith said. “You.”

“Were you…were you in love with me, Faith?” Buffy asked, sitting down on a bench.

“I think I might have been, back then.” Faith said, quietly. “I was young and didn't have the foggiest idea how to express it or even tell you, but yeah. I think I loved you back then.” She closed her eyes to keep from weeping. “I fought it. I didn't want it to be true because I knew you'd never love me back. You and Angel were storybook. You two shared that kind of love that I was talkin' about. Nothing can come along and fuck with that. I really do think that someday the two of you are gonna figure something out and be able to be happy. At least, getting to share that kind of love, I hope you do.”

“I don't know what to say, Faith,” Buffy said. She'd expected a lot of things from the dark slayer, but she never expected this.

“Just know that I meant what I said, B. You need help, I don't care what it is, you need some extra muscle to whip the Hellmouth into shape or you just need someone to talk to, day or night, you call me, okay? I'll be there for you come hell or high water. I did wrong by you and I'd like the chance to make things right if you'll let me.”

“Thank you, Faith,” Buffy said, softly. “That really does mean a lot to me.”

“Dump Riley, Buffy. Save your heart for Angel. He's worth it.” Faith said, sincerely. “And I'll guarantee you he's better in bed.”

“And just when I'm thinking of forgiving you, you gotta go and say shit like that.” Buffy snapped.

“Oh, sit there and tell me I'm wrong.” Faith said. “You and Riley have done the deed. So have you and Angel.”

“When Angel and I had sex, I was still a virgin,” Buffy said. “I didn't even know what good sex was.”

“Yeah, you owe Xander a huge fuckin' thank you for that fact.” Faith said. “Boy's got the control of a god.”

“What are you…?”

“I heard about what you did to him in the library during your junior year. Walkin' in nothin' but a rain coat and heels. You'd have pulled that shit with me I'd have fucked you three ways from Sunday.” Faith said. “I so would  _not_  have sweated the fallout.”

“Well, Xander's more of a gentleman than you,” Buffy said. “And yes, I do owe him a thank you.”

“Give him a lap dance.” Faith said. “That'll be thanks enough.”

“He's taken, remember?” Buffy pointed out.

“Doesn't matter where he gets his appetite as long as he goes home to eat.” Faith said.

“I'm hanging up on you, now,” Buffy said.

“Alright, I'll stop.” Faith said.

“Thank you for calling Faith. I'm sorry things went so badly between us. If they hadn't, who knows?” Buffy said.

“For the best, I think.” She again looked at Harry. “If things hadn't taken the road they did, we wouldn't be where we are now.” Faith said, smiling.

“Man or woman?” Buffy asked.

“Man.” Faith said. “The greatest man I've ever known.” She grinned. “And a stallion in the sack.”

“Would you accept anything less?” Buffy asked, snickering.

“B?” Faith said. “It's me.”

“Bye, Faith.”

“Later, B.” Faith returned, ending the call. She tossed the phone onto the bedside table and turned back to Harry, pushing him onto the bed. She straddled his lap and stared into his eyes. She said nothing but reached down between them.

He returned her avarice gaze and couldn't help but fall further in love.

 


	19. Chapter 19

Lucius Malfoy stood at the back of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom with his clipboard firmly in hand. He was asked by Cornelius Fudge himself to act as High Inquisitor to accurately report the readiness of the staff members at Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. And it was a role he was going to take very seriously.

He was surprised when the students came in and took their seats. They weren't divided down house lines. In fact, they were seated as pairs, one Ravenclaw student, and one Slytherin student together. That had him a little baffled, but he held his tongue. He was an observer, nothing more.

“Alright. Pair off.” Professor Lehane instructed her first-year class. She did her best to ignore him as she went about her lessons. “First group, dodging. Go.”

He watched intently as the class divided into two separate groups. Half of the students let loose with simply marking charms while the other half shoulder rolled out of the way. It was somewhat slow going, as it was obvious they were just learning, but he could see the practice at work. He checked off on his parchment as he observed. Faith and Tonks both moved about the class. Tonks offered correction to the students that were throwing the spells while Faith gave criticism to the students dodging. The pair made a great team, he had to begrudgingly admit.

“Switch out.” She said, sharply. The children swapped places. Those that were dodging now tossed spells while those that were casting practiced moving out of the way. For several minutes, she had them practice this. She then went into a detailed lecture about the difference between dueling and  _fighting_. It sparked a rather lively debate. He was happy that she seemed to know her stuff.

She was teaching them invaluable skills that would indeed benefit them in any duel they happened to be in. He was growing a grudging respect for the young woman.

As the class drew to a close, she issued the homework assignment and released the group. Everyone left and she moved up to him as he finished scrawling his notes. “Well?” She asked him. “You gonna jump my shit about not teaching them any magic?”

He stared down at her, his eyes narrowed. “What you are teaching them is more or less adequate.” He said before turning on his heel and leaving he room.

Tonks chuckled from behind her. “From what I know of the man, that's as close to a compliment as you're likely ever to get.”

“I get that impression.” Faith returned. She then went back to her desk to prepare for the next class.

Lucius left Defense Against the Dark Arts and was making his way to the charms class and decided against it. Professor Flitwick wrote the book on Charms. He remembered learning what he knew from the man and decided that, while the diminutive professor seemed to favor a more laid-back approach, the results of his lessons spoke volumes. There could be no question that the instructor was second to none. He shook his head and left, seeking others to observe.

He then headed up the Divinations Tower to observe Professor Treylawney. The Divination instructor was on edge the entire class. Given that the woman was on probation for being a complete sham, he understood her anxiety. He, at first, dismissed his predecessor's assessment and sought to see what he could glean for himself. What he learned while sitting in on her class was appalling.

From what he could tell of the woman, she was an utter fraud. While filled with scathing remarks and a plethora of personal opinions, he did find that the previous Inquisitor's assessments were spot on. He said nothing to the woman as he left the tower. He didn't trust himself to speak, his anger was so profound.

After lunch, he made his way to the field outside to observe flying practice only to be outright offended at the state of the brooms. The lot of them were bordering on ancient. He took the liberty of testing a few and found that most them vibrated heavily when at any considerable height, veered wildly when attempting to bank and were in just poor lackluster condition.

“I am curious about something.” He addressed Madam Hooch when the class had finished for the day.

“Yes, Inquisitor Malfoy?” She asked him, her voice filled with politeness.

“This school receives a relatively healthy budget.” He began. “The students by and large pay for their own supplies, a few of the…less fortunate students notwithstanding.” He motioned to the brooms. “And yet, these brooms are in very poor knick. If the funding the school receives isn't being spent on articles the school needs, then indeed what is it being spent on?”

Madam Hooch looked at the collection and let out a heavy sigh. “I wish I knew, sir.” She admitted. “I have been wanting to get new brooms for years. But every inquiry leads to the same response. It isn't in the budget.”

Malfoy growled. “This is unacceptable.” He said, jotting a note on this clipboard. “I'll be speaking to the Headmaster about this.” He looked at the woman with a nod. “A fine job you do, Madam. Keep it up and your position in this school will be most secure.”

That actually made her feel better. “Thank you, sir.”

He gave a curt nod and made his way back inside. He stopped as he watched Filch walking the halls staring at the students with a sinister eye. All day, all he'd seen the man do was glare at the students. It seemed to be his only job. And that got Lucius thinking. The caretaker, as far as he was concerned, was a pointless position. The house elves did the cooking, cleaning and the laundering. They provided much needed maintenance on various dilapidated sections of the school. The teachers and staff were more than capable of doling out punishments and handling detentions.

That literally left the caretaker precisely nothing to do, save stalk the students day and night waiting for an excuse to punish them…only to foist the child's detention onto someone else. He didn't understand it and made a note to speak with Dumbledore about it at the end of the day.

His next stop was to his friend Severus Snape's Potions class. And much like what he witnessed in the Divinations classroom, he was flabbergasted. He had expected Snape to be a grand instructor but was sadly mistaken. Severus merely glided about the room as the students in his third-year class, worked more or less independent of instruction. Twenty students all brewing potions with no guidance from their professor whatsoever. It was enough to make him sick.

He met Snape's eyes and motioned the man closer. Severus approached, obviously irritated at being bothered. “Why do you offer no instruction to these children? You are supposed to be teaching them.” He asked quietly.

Snape sneered at him. “If they had done the assigned reading as they were expected to, then I would have no need to instruct them, would I?” He responded sourly. He was obviously indignant about being called to the carpet on his teaching abilities.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. “If that is the case, Severus, then pardon me for saying this, but…a  _muggle_  could do your job with a basic comprehension of reading and a piece of chalk.” He could tell his words angered the Potions Master, but at the moment, he didn't care. His job was to make sure that the teachers were doing theirs.

“That is a hell of a thing for you to say to me, Lucius,” Snape growled in response.

“Do not snarl at me, Severus. I know you are a gifted Professor. Potions for you is more than a vocation, it is a  _passion_. But what I am seeing in your classroom is substandard and will not be tolerated. These students,  _all of them_ deserve better.” He motioned to the students. “Pass that passion on. Show them your skills. Having them simply read from a text and follow a recipe doesn't teach them. It tells them how to memorize.”

Snape growled again and turned away from the Malfoy patriarch. “Stop what you are doing.” He said, loudly. “Who among you can tell me the next step?” When the hands went up, he pointed to one of the Hufflepuff students. “Yes, you.” As the student answered him, he then asked a rather significant question. “And if you were to miss this step, or simply bypass it, what would you get?”

Malfoy watched as the dark wizard began engaging his students in actual discussion. He gave Snape an amicable nod. It was what he had expected from the man.

Having visited the classes that he thought would be most in need of a thorough house cleaning he decided to pay one last visit to Defense Against the Dark Arts. He slid down the hall and Disillusioned himself before stepping into the classroom. He knew that this period was the Gryffindors and the Slytherin students.

He actually found it rather humorous that his son was paired with Harry. While he did loathe the Potter boy, he did understand the benefit that the pairing would do young Draco. Many were the times that Lucius had to swallow his pride and stand shoulder to shoulder and offer niceties to those he found infuriating, insufferable or just plain despicable. The life of a high ranking social figure was full of such checks and balances.

Thus he was absolutely appalled with what he witnessed his son attempt. It was obvious that Draco wasn't the physical specimen some of his classmates were. Lucius saw immediately that Harry, Ronald Weasley and Longbottom boy were all rather fit. Draco, by comparison was slight and lanky. He loosed his marking spell upon Harry and hadn't managed to make contact once. Harry was incredibly deft. Malfoy knew this not only from what he was seeing now, but from personal experience. When Faith called for the boys to switch, Draco did his best to dodge out of the way of Harry's spells, but was failing miserably. He got out of the way of a few, but most seemed to find their mark. Incensed, and when neither Professor Lehane or Assistant Tonks was looking, he cast a simple leg-locker curse upon himself. “No fair, Potter!” He then shouted.

Faith and Tonks both called a stop to the exercise. “What's going on?” Faith asked, moving over to the pair.

“Potter hit me with the leg-locker curse so I couldn't move out of the way,” Draco said, struggling to get to his feet.

“I did not!” Harry snapped back, but Faith lifted her hand to stay him.

Tonks immediately dispelled it for Draco and helped him up.

“Really?” Faith said, crossing her arms as she stared at him. “You must think I'm dumber than a bag of socks.”

“It has crossed my mind,” Draco said, snidely.

“Twenty points from Slytherin, Malfoy.” Faith said, shaking her head. “Fifteen for casting a spell on yourself and blaming someone else for it and five for being an insufferable ass.” She turned to everyone else. “Back to it.” She said, motioning them to continue.

Lucius was impressed. The girl hadn't even been looking in Draco's direction, yet caught him plain as day.

Harry turned to Draco and stuck his tongue out at the young man. “Five points from Gryffindor.” Faith added, looking right at Harry. “Seriously, dude. You're not five. Grow up.”

That little display  _really_  impressed the elder Malfoy. According to the notes Umbridge left behind, Faith had been reluctant to offer any kind of discipline to the boy. He could see now, that the previous woman's observations were tainted by her abject hatred of the young Professor.

Now, it had to be said that Lucius shared no love for Faith. It would even be safe to say that he hated her, but he was also a man that valued intelligence. Faith was a gifted instructor. She taught her lessons well and made certain that, before she moved on, no child was left behind. Those who needed one on one instruction were encouraged to come and see her after class and she would do her best to bring them up to speed.

Some of the students in the class seemed to need that, but she didn't begrudge them. She seemed to understand that everyone learned at a different pace.

He left the classroom and waited in the hallway afterward. As Draco came out with Crabbe and Goyle in tow, he took Draco by the ear and hauled him off down the hall. “Gregory, Vincent. You may go. I'll be speaking with my son alone.” He said, sharply. They both left the pair to speak.

“What was that for?” Draco asked, rubbing his ear.

“That was for that embarrassing display in your class,” Lucius said, anger in his tone. “Your mother and I raised you better than that.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Draco lied.

Lucius walloped him upside the head. “Do not lie to me, boy. I saw what you did to the Potter boy. Deliberately casting at yourself and attempting to blame Harry for your lack of ability is childish and unbecoming of a Malfoy.” He closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “When I heard that you were being an insufferable arse to the other students, I didn't want to believe it. Being a Malfoy, many are those that are jealous of your heritage and station. I thought maybe, just  _maybe_  that it was the talk of those that were envious of what we have and who we are. Superiority often breeds hatred. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that  _my_ son would never have had to resort to such blatant and juvenile behavior. I knew that I had raised a boy that would show more couth, more  _tact_  than to resort to such utter buffoonery. It would seem I was mistaken.” He shook his head. “How disappointing that  _my son_ , the heir to the Malfoy name…” He sneered. “Has less decorum than that of a  _Weasley_.”

Draco was flabbergasted. “Don't say that.” He said, sadly. “I…I was just fooling about with Harry.”

“Malfoy's do not  _fool about_ ,” Lucius said his tone cold. “I expect better from you, Draco. You are to be the future of this family.” He popped the boy across the face. “Act like it. Now get out of my sight and think on what I've told you.”

Draco, his shoulders slumped, slinked away.

“That was pretty harsh.” Faith said as she exited the classroom. “Can't say the kid doesn't have it coming.”

He turned to her, his eyes narrowed. “I don't need…”

“Don't.” Faith interrupted, waving her hand. “I'm not lookin' to pick a fight.” She stepped up to him. “I'm here to call a truce, okay?”

He could think of a million things he was like to say to her. Most of them would, he was fairly certain result in her physically assaulting him. And given what he'd heard she'd done to the Dementor, he was in no hurry to suffer any kind of injury. “I'm here for the sole purpose of making certain the instructors are doing their jobs, Professor Lehane. I'm not here to make friends. You can keep your truce. I neither need it nor want it. Do your job. Teach your students as you have been and you'll have little trouble from me.”

She furrowed her brow. It was a relatively diplomatic response from the man. She honestly expected something far more insulting. But his choice of words did resonate. “I'll have  _little_  trouble from you, huh?”

He looked about and turned back to her. “Let us cut to the proverbial chase, Miss Lehane. I know you had something to do with Dolores Umbridge's disappearance. Before she vanished without a trace, she penned a letter to the Minister revealing her suspicions of you and some shadowy organization you had ties to. I've done some investigating of my own and learned of this supposed Watcher's Council. I will be the first to admit that my knowledge of them is rather limited, given what is available, but the ties between you and them are too prominent to simply ignore.” Faith simply shrugged. “Yes, yes. Deny it all you wish, but I know there is a connection between them, you and Umbridge's absence. I've heard the reports of black clad figures in the castle.” He gave her a smile. “All of the evidence that I've uncovered is very much circumstantial and wouldn't hold any kind of weight in a court of law. But just know that  _I know_ , Professor Lehane.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, Lucius.” She offered him.

“I'm sure you don't.” He said. “Nothing concrete can be tied to you or Dumbledore.” He chuckled. “Hats off to you, young lady.” He turned and left her standing there. “If you weren't a muggle…” He stopped and looked back at her. “You'd have made an excellent Malfoy.”

Faith was left staring after him. To her, that seemed insulting as hell, but she also understood the man that was saying it. And to him, she could have been paid no higher compliment.

Lucius made his way, notes in hand to Dumbledore's office. His last meeting with the Headmaster had not gone well. Lucius begrudgingly admitted – to himself at least – that his last actions were petulant and, frankly, beneath him. He was determined for this meeting to go smoother.

He rose up the stairs into the cluttered office. Dumbledore sat behind his desk looking over a stack of parchment. “Good afternoon, Lucius. I assume you have business to discuss?”

“Indeed.” The Malfoy patriarch offered. He moved over and sat in the chair, setting his cane beside him. “I have several issues that need immediate addressing.” He looked down at his clipboard. “Argus Filch is terminated immediately.”

Dumbledore frowned. “May I ask the reason you believe this?”

“It is quite simple. No service is done to this school by the man's presence. I spent a good portion of the day secretly observing him and have seen him do nothing beyond eerily stalk the students and take  _far_  too much joy in disciplining them for the most inane of infractions. For a man, that works with children he carries a very, very uncomfortable dislike of them. As caretaker, he does no maintenance on the school and he doesn't clean. All of that is accomplished by the house elves. Yes, he can oversee detentions, but given that most, if not all of said detentions are served with the teachers, again his duties are rendered pointless.” Malfoy shook his head. “That man does nothing. And you are paying him a hefty salary to do it.”

“I suppose I see your point,” Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Would you at least allow him to finish out the year and tend his resignation?”

Malfoy frowned. “I suggest a compromise. I will allow him to remain until the Winter break. Caretaker is not a position of necessity.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Very well. I will be the one to inform him if that is alright with you.”

“I have no issue with that,” Lucius said, flipping to a different page. “The next order of business is the brooms for the flying class.” He looked at the aged wizard. “Their condition is unacceptable.”

“As Madam Hooch has informed me. But the budget…”

“Is sufficient to purchase replacements,” Lucius said, interrupting the man. “I know what the school is being given to run, Headmaster. I would like to know where the money is going. Perhaps I will sit down and look over the books. I am sure I can find the funds needed. And given that you will soon not be paying for a pointless caretaker, I daresay that will free up more monies to purchase what is needed.”

Dumbledore sighed and nodded, not saying anything.

“Last order of business is Professor Treylawney. Your Divinations instructor.” He looked to Dumbledore, shaking his head. “The woman is a horrendous teacher.”

“I assure you, Professor Treylawney has all the qualifications…” Dumbledore began.

“I am not doubting her credentials, Headmaster. I am questioning her ability to  _teach_. Possessed of the inner eye or not is not necessarily a requirement. At the very least not as far as I am concerned. My only requirement is that the students within her class  _learn_  something. I spent the time with her fourth years and watched her do nothing but glide about the room looking whimsical while the children read out of the book and struggled with, well,  _everything_. Dolores already had her on probation for not being able to do her job. I heartily agree with her.”

Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his face in his hands. “What do you suggest, Lucius? It is past the beginning of the school year. Finding a replacement would be next to impossible.”

“I agree. But getting an assistant for her that could teach, at least for the rest of the term might be simpler. But I want someone brought in in a timely manner, Headmaster. Who it is, I leave to you, for the time being.”

“I will see to it,” Dumbledore said, nodding.

“Very well,” Lucius said. “I will also be penning a letter to the Minister calling for more funds to possibly hire more instructors. The lack of teachers is a hindrance to these children.” The man added as he rose to his feet.

“Thank you, Lucius,” Dumbledore said, leaning back. “Will that be all?”

“For now.” The elder Malfoy said.

“I am surprised you are not trying to throw Professor Lehane on the chopping block,” Dumbledore said.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes and slowly shook his head. “My job is to valuate  _bad_  teachers, Headmaster.” He then left the man's office.

Dumbledore couldn't help but smile at the choice of wording.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upon reading this chapter, many will notice that I do not paint Lucius Malfoy in an overly unfavorable light. The reason for this is very simple;  
> Lucius is the kind of man, in my estimation that, while definitely an asshole, would at the very least, do his job to the best of his ability. He would have no compunction calling teachers to the carpet for being substandard.  
> Faith, for not being a Witch, still teaches kids what she thinks they should know. And with Tonks helping out, the students are getting a decent education.  
> So there won't be a lot of Malfoy bashing over the next few chapters.


	20. Chapter 20

Faith sat at the desk in her office going over her lesson plan. The stereo on her bookshelf was pumping out  _The Stroke_ by Billy Squier and she was tapping her fingers and singing along as she bobbed her head. She lifted her eyes to the open office door as she heard the sharp knock. She was stunned by who she saw standing there.

Lucius Malfoy, clad in black and looking very much the part of his station stood with a clipboard in hand. For the past two weeks, he'd been moving through the school, cleaning house. Thus far, he'd been a rather welcome addition. Faith wholeheartedly expected him to make her life difficult, but since his first visit to her class, his interaction with her had been minimal at best. He didn't go out of his way to be rude, but he didn't go out of his way to be nice, either. His conversations with her, short and curt though they were, were civil if nothing else.

She found herself okay with that. While she hated the man for what he represented and who he gave his loyalty to, she couldn't fault the job he was doing. He was good at what he did. He moved in to take a seat. He cast his eyes to the entertainment system with a look of distaste. He cocked his head a moment and listened to the words of the song.

Faith couldn't help but smile as she watched him. “ _Stroke, stroke, stroke_ …” The speakers belted out.

He narrowed his eyes and turned back to her. “Is this song about what it sounds like?” He asked her.

She took the remote and turned it down. “Depends. What do you think it means?”

“I think it smacks of… _self gratification_  to be brutally honest.” Lucius said. “And I find it rather distasteful.”

Faith chuckled. “A few years ago, Billy Squier did an interview and admitted that, while that's what people thought, that wasn't his intention. It's actually more about corporate life than anything else.”

“Stroke me?” Lucius asked, doubtfully.

“Put your right hand out, give a firm handshake. Talk to me about that one big break. Spread your Ear Pollution, both far and wide. Keep your contributions by your side.” Faith quoted. “Kiss my ass junior, because I'm your key to the top. Impress me and you get the breaks.” She shrugged. “Sounds a lot more like the back alleys of business than swinging your nuts to me.”

Although he didn't particularly enjoy her metaphor, he couldn't argue the merit of her interpretation. “Indeed.” He said, simply. “I've been going over the budget for the school and the classes.” He flipped the sheets of paper on his clipboard. “There are modest funds available for anything that your particular class might need.” He looked at her. “Can you think of anything?”

She was stunned that he was even asking. “Um…” She sat back and crossed her arms. “Well, like what?” She asked him.

He sneered at her. He couldn't resist a dig. “If you were a wizard, you would know precisely what manner of supplies you would need.”

“Yeah, well I ain't.” Faith said, bitterly. “So give me some ideas, bud.”

He sighed and looked about the office. “Training equipment. Exercise apparel.”

Faith thought about it. “Having a gym would be nice.” She said, nodding. “Maybe a couple of wooden men. Some free weights. I could probably get some dirt cheap off of Craigslist.”

Lucius furrowed her brow. “Who is this Craig and why would he have a list? More appropriately what is on it?”

Faith raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You've never heard of Craigslist?” As soon as she said it, she realized just how dumb the question was. “You know what, forget I asked.” She said, shaking her head. “Think of it as the world's biggest swap meet.”

“A marketplace.” Lucius clarified.

“Yeah. Something like that. You can get all kinds of shit for really good prices. A lot of it's used, but still in pretty good shape.” Faith pointed to her stereo system. “Got that for thirty bucks. Brand new in the store it would have cost me about…” She quickly did the conversion in her head. “Probably getting on for about a hundred pounds.”

“I know what American dollars are,” Lucius said, angrily. “I'm not completely inept.”

Faith lifted her hands to placate the man. “Not sayin' you are. Sorry if I offended you. Just let me know what I'm working with, pound-wise and I can outfit the class. Get these kids some proper workout gear.”

He nodded. “I'll have some figures for you shortly.” He said, rising to his feet. “Just out of curiosity…” He bit his lip a moment. “How is my son faring in your class?”

Faith gave him a slight nod. “He's doing okay. Needs to take his physical a little more seriously, but he's got a good head on his shoulders. Kid's got an adaptive mind. Rate he's goin', he'll do alright.”

Lucius gave a firm nod and turned to leave the room. He stopped and looked back at her. “Ronnie James Dio.” He said, eyeing her.

Faith's eyes dilated. “What?”

“If you want a truly gifted musician,” Lucius said. “He was a rather gifted wizard in his youth.”

“Dio was a wizard?” Faith asked, stunned. As Lucius gave her a curt nod, she chuckled. “That actually makes sense, now that I think about it.”

“You've heard of him, then?” He asked her.

“Not a rock and roll fan alive doesn't know the name Ronnie James Dio.” Faith said.

Lucius nodded again. “Hide in the Rainbow.” He said, softly. “Arguably his best work.”

“Don't think I've heard that one.” Faith admitted.

“It's worth your time.” He said, before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

“Man's a metal fan. Who'd have thought?” She asked the empty room as she went back to work.

True to his word, Lucius appropriated quite a bit of money for Faith to get some much-needed equipment for her class. She was given a sizable room in one of the upper floors of the castle to convert to a gym. The house elves had it cleared and cleaned in the span of a weekend.

She was able to purchase practice pads and mixed martial arts gloves in bulk. She also managed to get a really nice used Universal Gym, a few sets of gently used free weights, a trio of heavy bags and speed bags.

Dumbledore and Lucius both moved through the room, visibly impressed. “You definitely know how to make the most of a galleon.” The elder Malfoy said. “Now how will this help the children?”

Faith moved over to the heavy bag. She held it and motioned Malfoy over. “Give it a hit.” She said. “Punch it as hard as you can.”

“To what end?” He asked her.

Faith stepped over and snatched his cane, which housed his wand, from his hand. She then handed it to Dumbledore. “Hang onto that.” She looked at Lucius. “Now, you've just been disarmed. Your opponent is thinking himself pretty clever.” She stepped back to the bag. “You got a chance to lay his ass out.” She slapped the bag. “Show me what you got.”

Malfoy growled and did as she suggested. He drew back and, to his credit, landed a pretty solid punch. “Bloody Nora.” He said, shaking his fist. “That hurt.”

Faith gave him a nod. “You got a nice hook, bud. Telegraphed a touch, but you'd do some damage with that bad boy.” She looked at Dumbledore and smiled. “What about you, Grandpa? Wanna try your luck?”

He sighed and handed Malfoy's cane back to him. “To satisfy your curiosity, yes?” He asked Faith.

“What can I say?” She asked, holding the bag for him. “Just don't break a hip.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. The elderly wizard squared up with the bag and tapped it here and there. “It seems rather heavy for a punching bag.”

“I got that thirty-five pounder over there, a seventy and this one's a hundred.” Faith said. “It's for the heavy hitters.”

Dumbledore nodded and lifted his hands into a typical boxing stance. Faith looked at his form and saw that it was impeccable. “Good stance.” She said, nodding.

He flicked his eyes to her and executed a picture perfect right cross. His fist smacked into the bag and caused it to shudder violently. “Holy shit.” She said, stunned. “Old man got some power goin' on.”

Lucius Malfoy was genuinely impressed. Faith saw his eyes widen in shock before he quickly regained his composure. “Impressive.” He said, his voice carefully neutral.

Dumbledore, unlike Lucius, didn't have to shake the blood flow back into his hand. “I did learn the sweet science when I was in my youth.”

“Kept the lessons from what I can see.” She offered, grinning.

Malfoy crossed his arms. “Why don't you show us what  _you_  can do?” Dumbledore just chuckled.

Faith shook her head. “I can't unload on this thing.”

“Why not?” Lucius asked. “I'd like to see…”  
“She'd destroy it, Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said, turning to leave the room.

“I'm supposed to believe that?” He asked, obviously not convinced.

Faith absently backhanded the heavy bag. It swung up and smacked the ceiling of the room violently. As it came back down, she stepped into its path and held her hand out, catching it. “That was  _nowhere_  near my hardest.” She watched Dumbledore exit the room and disappear down the hallway. She then turned back to Lucius. “I'm built to fight demons and vampires, Malfoy. I'm strong enough to fight them in droves. I've taken out a dozen vampires at once. By myself with no help.” She gripped his arm and shoved his sleeve up, revealing his dark mark. “Him?” She said, staring him in the eyes. “The son of a bitch you work for?” She shook her head. “He ain't ready for something like me. When this shit all goes down and the levee breaks? I'm gonna show him what  _real_  power is.”

Lucius pulled his arm away from her and snatched his sleeve down. “The Dark Lord is a force beyond your feeble understanding.” He snarled. “His will is absolute. If he wishes it, it comes to pass. Many are those that are willing to die to make it so.”

“Are you one of those people, Lucius?” She asked him. “You his lapdog? Huh? His flunky? You willing to be Voldemort's bitch?”

He stepped into her face, glaring at her. Less than a finger's width separated them. “I am Lucius Malfoy.” He growled, deeply. “I am nobody's bitch.”

She rapidly gripped his robes and pulled him so she looked down at him. “Good to know.” She flicked her tongue over the end of his nose. “Luscious.” She pushed him to the floor and turned, moving from the room. “Next time you throw a punch, put your weight into it. Like the old man did. You'll do more damage that way.”

He shot to his feet, roughly sliding the arm of his robe across his face. He then snatched his wand from his cane and leveled it at her retreating back. She'd attacked him. He was within his rights. He could fire off any number of spells…but he didn't. His wand stayed silent. His arm trembled with rage as the dark haired girl left the room.

For almost a full minute, Lucius Malfoy simply stood there, anger causing his body to shudder. In the end, he didn't loose one single incantation. And what angered him the most…was  _why_.

The beginning of November found Hogwarts covered in a blanket of snow. Faith was immediately reminded of Boston. The east coast winters were horrible. “I knew there was a reason I liked it in California.” She said, sadly. She tugged the blankets up tighter about her. The fireplace in her quarters burned brightly. The warmth was nice, but she desperately wished it provided more.

She was in an extremely foul mood because of Dumbledore not allowing any of the students to make the trip to Hogsmead due to the weather. The storm that had blown in was one of the worst in recent years and had veritably shut the small town down. The Three Broomsticks had shut its doors for the weekend. So she and Harry couldn't spend their usual weekend away. So they were relegated to staying at the castle for the evening.

The door opened and shut without anyone appearing. She grinned widely as Harry's head appeared from under the Invisibility Cloak. She climbed out of bed and moved over to him, pulling him in for a loving kiss. “Hey, baby.” She said, happily.

“Hello, Faith.” He said back to her. “Get your clothes on. Dress warmly.”

She furrowed her brow. “You're kidding.” She said to him. She looked over at her clock. “It's almost ten at night.”

He nodded. “I know. But there's someone I want you to meet.” Harry said. “Come on. Get dressed.”

“Ugh.” Faith said, moving over to gather her clothes. “It's colder than Santa's balls pissin' in a blizzard outside, Harry.”

He laughed outright at her phrasing. “Hagrid returned last night. I told him about you and he wants to meet you.”

“Who the hell is Hagrid?” Faith asked as she pulled on the thermal underwear under her jeans and the heavy wool sweater that Harry had given her. Molly had been giving him a new one every year. His gift from the previous year fit her just fine. She couldn't deny how warm the thing was. She tugged on her thick leather and fleece aviator jacket. It was warm as hell and served her well when the weather started turning. Lastly, she slid on her gloves. “I swear to god, you're rubbing the feeling back into my feet when we get back inside.” Faith said.

Harry smiled as she led her out of the school and onto the snowy grounds. “Hagrid is really nice.”

Faith shoved her hands into her pockets. “This is such bullshit.” She said, shaking her head. “You know what?  _Fifteen_  points from Gryffindor instead of ten for making me come outside in this shit.”

Harry sighed and kept trudging on. “Don't worry. It'll be warm in Hagrid's cottage.” He said, heading toward the squat little structure. The trip was arduous, but they made it to the shanty in brief time. Harry rapped on the door.

The massive boarhound immediately began barking loudly. “ _HUSH_!” Hagrid roared. The command obviously did little to calm the bellowing beast. “Back, Fang!” He shouted again. The door opened a crack. Bruises and cuts still adorned most of Hagrid's face.

Harry still felt a pang of sympathy for the big man. Having heard what he went through for Dumbledore. He offered to tell Faith. Knowing how strong and how good a fighter she was, she'd be willing to go to the giants and help.

Hagrid had steadfastly refused. So Harry had taken it to Dumbledore and he backed Hagrid's statement. What could be done had been done. The wizened old mage believed the giants at this point to be too fractured and at each other's throats to be of any use to anyone. While Hagrid's mission hadn't been a rousing success, it hadn't been a complete failure, either.

Harry, at that point, was content to leave it be. He gave Hagrid a bright smile. “Good evening, Hagrid.” He said, happily.

“'Ello 'Arry.” The big man offered. He turned to look at his dog. “ _Back_!” He shouted again.

After getting over the initial shock of just how completely and utterly  _massive_ Hagrid was, she belted out “Oh, for god's sake, let him out.” She was hugging her arms about herself. “I love dogs.”

“Be careful,” Harry said as Hagrid opened the door. “He's quite sizable.” As soon as he spoke, the huge boarhound raced out and moved to pounce on the brunette.

“Jesus Christ!” Faith said, stepping back. She hadn't expected the animal to be as big as he was. “That's not a dog. It's a fucking pack-mule!” He leapt at her, all drool and happiness. She caught him without getting bowled over.

Hagrid and Harry were both shocked beyond belief. “Never seen tha' before.” The big man looked to Harry. “Usually tramples people down when he does tha'.”

Faith held the giant dog in her arms. “He's definitely beefy.” She said, carrying him into the house. “But he's just a big old puppy.” She reached up and scratched his ears. “Aren't ya, buddy?”

Hagrid closed the door, bolting it. “Never seen someone carry Fang before.”

“I'm stronger than I look.” Faith said. She moved over and dumped the dog into his bed, earning an indignant huff from him. She pulled her gloves off and offered her hand. “I'm Faith Lehane. I'm the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.”

“Professor Lehane,” Hagrid said taking her hand in his giant paw. He noticed that she had a really good, firm handshake. “Gotta like a girl that's got a good grip.”

“Thanks. And call me Faith.” She said.

“Faith. Perty name for a perty girl.” He offered with a happy smile. “Rubeus Hagrid. Gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures Professor.”

“So Grubblyplant was filling in for you.” Faith offered. She pulled her jacket off.

“Aye. Tha' she was.” He said, moving to the fire. “Care for some tea?” He filled the tea kettle and placed it on the flames.

“As frosty as it is outside, I'd love some.” She said, moving to sit at the table. Harry was grinning widely. He slid a chair out for her. She looked to him and pulled him in for a quick kiss. The boy took his own seat. Fang immediately moved over rested his chin on her lap. She began petting his head.

Harry lifted a napkin, folded it and picked up the dog's jowls, and put the napkin under it. “Trust me.” He said, softly.

Faith gave him a nod and looked around the place. “You got a pretty cozy setup here, Hags.”

“Hags?” He said, turning to look at her.

She gave him a sweet smile. “You'll find I'm a nickname person. I've pretty much whittled everyone down.”

Harry nodded. “She calls Headmaster Dumbledore D, Professor McGonagall is Professor Mack…”

“You call Professor McGonagall  _Mack_?” Hagrid asked her, his voice filled with humor. “How does she take that?”

Faith shrugged. “Hasn't turned me into a frog or anything yet. Figured she was okay with it.”

He laughed and began mixing the ingredients for raisin rock cakes. “So pardon me for asking, but what happened to you?” Faith asked. “You look like you went ten rounds with a bulldozer.”

“Had a…dis'greement with a chap,” Hagrid said.

“Jesus. I'd hate to see what the other guy looks like.” Faith offered. “You okay?”

“I'm fine, dear.” He said to her. “So Harry says that you two are…” He didn't quite know how to say it.

“Dating?” Faith asked him.

“Good a word as any.” He said.

“It's true.” She said, nodding.

“So how much does she know about you-know-who?” Hagrid asked Harry.

“Everything.” Faith said. “And I'm gonna be helping when it comes time to take his ass out, too.”

“Don't know what help yer gonna be,” Hagrid said. “Not bein' a wizard and all.”

Faith snickered and stood up. She moved over and stood in front of him. “Gimme your hand.” He offered it without hesitation. She began squeezing. “Like I said. I'm stronger than I look.” Harry looked on with a smile.

Hagrid raised an eyebrow. As her grip grew tighter, he gave her a grin. Until it started getting tighter… _and tighter_. He grimaced as his hand began to hurt. And still her grip increased. “Good  _lord_.” He said, wrapping his hand around her wrist. “You can let go, now.”

She did as he instructed. “Just putting things in perspective. Just because I ain't a wizard, doesn't mean I don't have my own surprises.”

“I'll say,” Hagrid said, shaking his hand. “Coulda broke somethin'.” He looked to Harry. “Hope she doesn't hurt ya.”

“She's gentle when she needs to be,” Harry said.

The trio sat into the small hours of the morning just chatting lightly and sipping tea. Both Harry and Faith were glad that they had no classes the next day. They both made it back to Faith's quarters at just after six in the morning. The pair collapsed into bed fell asleep in each other's arms.

 


	21. Chapter 21

 

Faith moved down the hall and saw Lucius Malfoy strolling toward her. His face was firmly planted on the clipboard he carried in his hand. She loathed the man. There was no denying that, but since he'd taken over the post of High Inquisitor, he'd made  _huge_  strides in improving the school. By the second week of November, he'd managed to get three more teachers hired.

Professor Binns – who Faith had hilariously found out was a  _ghost_  – and was still getting paid, was replaced by someone a bit more lively. He inspected her class at least twice a week and could find no faults in what she was teaching her students. The children were learning to defend themselves, which was something he was glad to see.

As he strode on, he gave her a glance as he passed her. “Professor Lehane.” He said, civilly. She was shocked, to be honest.

“Hey, Lucius?” She asked, stopping to turn toward him. “You got a second?”

He paused and raised an eyebrow. “Lucius is it? Not  _Luscious_?” He asked, his tone sour.

Faith shook her head. “Look. I know pretty much anything I say means Jack and shit to you, but I'm gonna try anyway. I apologize.” She stepped closer to him. “I think I've got you figured out. And least partially.”

“Oh?” He crossed his arms and stared down at her. “This ought to be entertaining. Do tell.”

She looked up and down the hallway. “We both know who you really work for. We both know he's back and we both know that a fight's comin'.” She checked his face for any sign of acknowledgment. A subtle twitch of his jaw confirmed that she was right. “I know you follow him for two reasons. And I understand both of them.”

“Do you?” He asked. A combination of humor and curiosity filled his voice.

“The first is that you believe in his message. You believe in what he's doing. What he says. I don't know if you're familiar with a man by the name of Adolf Hitler or not…”

“I've read of him.” Lucius offered. “Responsible for a lot of deaths.”

“Lot of people followed him because they bought what he was selling. Racial purity and all that. For you and Voldemort, it's the same way. He talks, you listen.” She shook her head. “I can't blame you for that. In the end, everyone's gotta believe in something.”

“How very insightful of you.”

“There's also another reason you follow him.” She cocked her head. “You're afraid of him.” She could see Lucius' eyes narrow. She lifted her hands to placate him. “Don't get pissed. I'm not faulting you for that. I've known a few scary SOB's in my time. The last guy I worked for was the same way. If you crossed him, he would rain all over your parade. He was the kind of guy that would burn you down then take out your family, even your cat just for pissing him off. Voldemort ain't above that shit. That's why you serve him instead of going against him. It's not just that you believe in what he wants to do, but you also wanna keep your family safe.” She stared into his eyes. They softened for half a heartbeat. “I can respect that. There's a saying that I'm actually pretty fond of and in your case, it's pretty damn apt.” He raised an inquiring eyebrow. “I'd rather the devil's right hand than in his path.”

He stared at her a moment. “I'm impressed.” He said, sincerely. There was no humor or dismissal in his tone. “You do seem to have unraveled a bit of my mystery, haven't you?”

Faith shrugged. “I've been where you're standing. I've been the one that was sent to deal with shit because the boss didn't wanna get his hands dirty.” She tapped him on the chest. “That's what you do. And I can respect that.”

“Hm,” Lucius said, before turning to leave.

“There is one more thing.” Faith said. He turned to look at her. “You remind me of someone.”

“And who is that?” He asked.

“You remind me of the babe.” She offered.

He furrowed his brow. “What  _babe_?”

“The babe with the power.” Faith added.

“What  _power_?” He turned fully toward her.

“The power of Voodoo.” She said, trying not to smile.

“What in blazes are you on about?” He asked, incredulous.

“Ooh,  _so close_.” Faith said, spinning and heading down the hall.

He stared after her thoroughly confused. “She's gone faulty.” He said, heading back to his office.

November bled into December. Faith had flat out  _demanded_  that Thanksgiving weekend – and she was a little saddened to learn that it wasn't celebrated in Britain – be spent in Hogsmead with Harry. Dumbledore made a fuss that the weather was a bit bad, but she stared him down until he relented. She'd pretty much spent the entire time in bed with Harry. She made sure that it was special by showing the boy the many,  _many_ uses of chocolate and whipped cream.

Harry had the time of his life and found his new favorite dessert.

Faith worked the students tirelessly in Defense class. As much as she wanted the students to get along, Harry and Draco just couldn't seem to. She tried everything. But the Malfoy brat just couldn't seem to bring himself to get along with Harry. Faith didn't really understand why and frankly, neither did Harry.

Lucius constantly belittled the boy for being an obtuse little prat. At one point, Draco's father even chastised him in front of the entire class when Draco was on the verge of casting a rather nasty jinx on Faith when her back was turned.

He stripped fifty points from Slytherin for the act. “Malfoy's do not resort to such cowardly tactics.” He said, shoving his boy forward. “If you wish to duel her, then do so with your head high and with confidence.”

Faith was stunned that the man would call his son out so blatantly. Malfoy did his best to sling curses, jinxes, and hexes at her, but she moved out of the way with ease. “You're gonna have to do better than that, Draco.” She said to him.

Rage turned the boy's face red. He was being made a fool by this… _muggle_. He stood with his wand trembling in his hand. “Why don't you stand and fight?” He snarled. “Why do you constantly run?”

She crossed her arms. “Because that's the point of this class, kid.” Faith said. “You all see what he's doing?” She asked. “Look at his wand. Look at his face.” She pointed at him. “Look at his  _eyes_.” She shook her head. “I'm not beating you, Draco. You're beating yourself.” She began pacing the room. “This is a great example of what I've been trying to get through to all of you. Most of you get it.” She pointed to Lucius. “He definitely gets it. Most spells won't work when you're pissed off.”

Draco sneered. “There is one spell that does.” He lifted his wand.

Lucius rushed toward him. “Draco,  _no_!” But his warning came too late.

He wasn't able to reach his son before the words left his mouth. “ _Crucio_!” He shouted.

Everyone in the room would have been absolutely  _stunned_  at the merest mention of the unforgivable curses. But to see one used on a  _Professor_  by one of her students was beyond anything they'd have thought to see.

The next few seconds would be burned into every single one of the room's occupants. Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

Lucius Malfoy rushed furiously to subdue his son as the energy left his wand. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Tonks all pulled their wands at the same instant.

Faith…

What happened to Faith was the most surprising aspect of all. When time returned to normal, the curse slammed into her…and caused her to do nothing more than stagger back a step and grit her teeth.

“Expelliarmus!” Five throats shouted at once. The resulting burst of energy hurled Draco Malfoy into the outstretched hands of his father, causing both to be thrown across the room.

For a brief moment, all was quiet. Then, slowly all eyes turned to Faith. She stood, rolling her head about on her shoulders, resulting in a series of grinding cracks. “That was unpleasant.”

Harry, for his part, was shocked beyond words. He'd been on the receiving end of the Cruciatus and knew full well the kind of pain it was capable of. It had dropped him to the ground and made him feel like every part of him was being torn apart slowly. And Faith had simply shrugged it off.

Lucius slowly rose to his feet, pulling Draco up with him. “You  _fool_!” He said, smacking the blonde boy across the face. Blood dripped from the boy's mouth. “Do you know what you've done?”

“I…” Draco began but was smacked again.

“You've doomed yourself, boy.” Lucius was beginning to tear up. “You used an unforgivable curse on another wizard.” He said, his voice soft. “That's a lifetime in Azkaban, Draco.”

Draco stepped back, looking up at his father. His eyes were pleading. Then it hit home. He realized that he'd made a terrible, terrible mistake. “But surely you can…?”

Lucius looked at the rest of the students. His eyes fell not on Faith, but on Nymphadora Tonks. She was an Auror…and she saw the whole entire event unfold. “No, Draco. I can't.” The elder Malfoy said, his voice cracking.

The girl stepped closer, taking Draco's wand from his hand. For the first time in her life, Nymphadora wasn't happy about having to do her job. Draco was a miserable little twat that was true. But he was just a boy that had gotten angry. “Come along, lad.”

“Please, father,” Draco said as Tonks began dragging him from the room. “Professor, I'm sorry, I…I got angry.”

Harry, Hermione, and Ron all looked from Draco to Lucius and finally to Faith. Harry, more than anyone wanted Draco to get in trouble. He deserved to be punished, but life in Azkaban for one mistake was a bit much.

Faith bit her lip. She was at war with herself. The spell hurt, yes, but it wasn't the debilitating hell that she'd read about. Granted, Draco was by far not the most powerful wizard out there. She was fairly certain that, had Tonks or Lucius cast it on her, she would have pissed her pants. In a moment of compromised judgment, Draco had lost his cool and screwed up. Of all of the people in the room, _she_ owed the boy a second chance. “Thank you, Draco. That was very well done. You pulled your part off perfectly.” Everyone turned to look at her. “What?” She asked, walking over and resting a hand on Tonks' arm. “It's alright. No harm done.”

“But the use of…”

“It's my fault.” Faith said. “I got together with Draco before class and we hashed out a plan to show you all the truth.” She knew it was weak, but it was all she had. “And he busted it out flawlessly.” Draco looked up at her, not sure what she was getting at. “Remember? I talked to you in the hall and wanted you to show the class what getting pissed off does? I wanted you to lose your shit, remember?”

“Um…” He said. “Oh. Oh, yes. I do remember.” He realized that he'd just been thrown a rope. “I used the unforgivable. Just like you told me.”

“Right.” Faith said, turning back to the class. “It was to show you that even really, really nasty spells can have varying effects on people. Being what I am, I'm highly resistant to magic. Even something as horrible as the Crucio curse.” She then pointed to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville. “And you also see what happens when a simple spell such as the disarming spell is used in conjunction with other wizards.” She grinned. “It wrecks people's shit.” She could see that many of the students were skeptical of her explanation, but she let that go. It was bullshit and a majority of them knew it. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all gave her a nod. They understood why she'd done what she had. No one should be damned for eternity for one simple mistake. “That's enough for today.” She said. “Gonna have a bit of fun with our next assignment. Give me two feet on who you'd use the Imperius Curse on if it were legal for a day and what you'd make them do. No need to get graphic, just have some fun.” She waved them all away.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione immediately rushed to her. “Are you alright?” Harry asked.

She hugged him. “I'm fine, baby.” She kissed him lightly. “Go on. Gotta talk to daddy and baby Malfoy.”

He nodded. “Okay.” He grinned at her and turned to leave. She got a warm smile from all them as they left.

Lucius and Draco both approached. Draco was incredibly sheepish. Tonks stood with her arms crossed. She still had the boy's wand in her hand. “I…” Lucius looked down at Draco and cursed under his breath. He hated it, hated it with a fiery,  _fiery_  passion that he owed Faith Lehane the world at that moment. If not for her, Draco Malfoy's life would effectively have been over. “I am in your debt.” He said, his tone so cold, so piercing that it was everything she could do not to flinch. He lifted his eyes and tried his damnedest to look hard, but Faith didn't miss the quivering emotion within. “To think that a mug-,” He bit his tongue, halting his words. “That a  _non-wizard_  would show such compassion.”

Faith sighed, leaning back against the desk. “Look.” She said, eyeing the both of them. “I know what it's like to lose my shit. I've screwed up and hurt people that I didn't want to. I know how it is to make a mistake and be completely hung out to dry because of it.” She looked to Draco. “You got pissed. I'm not gonna fault you for that. Just means you're human.” She held her hand out to Tonks. The girl handed Faith his wand. “You got a temper on you, kid. And it's gonna get you into trouble.” She offered his wand back. As he gripped it, she tugged him forward. He had to put his hands on her chest to brace himself. She gripped his robes and held him there. She slowly lifted him from the floor and kept him aloft. “A year ago?” She shook her head. “I'd have gutted you and left you to die in front of your old man. That shot was the last one you get, you understand me?” He nodded eagerly. “Good.” She dropped him to the floor. “I'm not giving you detention, I'm not stripping house points.”

His eyes were wide. “Why?” He asked, curiously.

“I kinda screwed myself when I said that I'd asked you to do that.” She looked to Lucius. “You wanna be square again?” Lucius nodded, his eyes narrow, which made Faith smile. “You know what? We’ll talk later.” Faith said, patting his shoulder. “Come back by my office tonight before light’s out. We’ll have a little chat.” She flicked her eyes to his arm.

“Indeed,” Lucius said, giving her a slow nod. “Thank you again for what you've done.” He said, taking Draco by the hand and leading him out into the hallway.

For nearly a full minute, Faith just stared at the door. Tonks moved over and mimicked her stance, crossing her arms in front of her. “Had a chance to rid this school of a rather nasty bit of foulness there.” She said, looking at Faith. “With Draco in Azkaban, Lucius wouldn't really have his mind on the job.”

Faith sighed. “Thought of that, actually.” She shook her head. “Couldn't do it. I wasn't kidding. I know where the kid's comin' from. I've been so pissed before that I couldn't think straight. I acted pretty rashly and got myself into a lot of trouble. I didn't mean to screw up as bad as I did, but by the time I realized what I'd done, it was just too little, too late. I could see that no one would trust me again and they weren't willing to cut me a break.” She stood and moved around cleaning the class up. “I wasn't gonna let that happen to him. He fucked up. I'm gonna give him a pass. He does it again and I ain't gonna say word one as you drag him off to the Rock.”

Tonks nodded. “I hear ya.”

Harry could barely concentrate the rest of the day. What he'd seen had really bothered him, yet intrigued him at the same time. He wasn't sure how or why, but he found himself at the door of one Severus Snape. He rapped on the door of the Potion Master's office and waited.

The tall black-clad wizard stood glaring down at him. “What is it, Potter?” He asked, his tone just as cold as the room he occupied.

“I was wondering if I could speak to you a moment?” Harry asked. “It's about the unforgivable curses.”

“They're unforgivable. That's all you ever need know.” Snape said.

“I've got questions about the Cruciatus Curse,” Harry said.

Snape looked at the boy, his eyes narrowed. “As someone who claims to have been on the receiving end of such a spell, you would know better than I it's finer points, now wouldn't you?”

Harry sighed and ignored his remark. “I want to know more about it.”

Snape eyed him a moment then stepped aside, letting him in. “What specifically?”

“When Draco used it, it didn't seem that powerful. Faith was barely staggered. But when Voldemort used it on me…”

“It seemed so much more potent?” Snape asked him. As Harry nodded, Snape moved over and sat on in his chair. “Because, at that moment, Voldemort wanted you to  _suffer_. He wanted to revel in your pain. He didn't just want you to hurt, Potter. He wanted you to  _break_.” He shook his head. “Young Malfoy, unlike his father, hasn't attained such levels of depravity. Not yet. He doesn't understand what it is to  _truly_  inflict agonizing torment on someone. You've gotten a taste of that. You know what that kind of pain is like. So does the Dark Lord. But Draco does not. Thus, his Cruciatus was anemic. A minor inconvenience to someone with the physical and mental endurance of a slayer.”

“So a more powerful spell and Faith would have been affected like anyone else?” Harry asked him.

Snape shook his head. “Not like everyone else. Where you more likely as not were incapacitated by the agony you felt,” Harry nodded to him. “Professor Lehane would not suffer so. She would be pained, sure. But it is my belief that she would be able to, as the Americans are wont to say 'power through' and act when most wouldn't.” He shrugged. “Part and parcel of someone that is born and bred to do battle with the supernatural world.”

“So you're saying she's almost immune to the unforgivable curses?” Harry asked him.

“No,” Snape said. “I don't doubt that she would be able to shake off the Imperius. She's too stubborn for it to work. And the Cruciatus is just pain. A combination of mental, physical and magically induced, yes, but as with the Imperius, the mental attack of it would have little effect on her. And the physical pain is nothing she hasn't faced before.”

Harry was amazed by what the Professor was telling him. “Faith, as I imagine all slayers would, seems to have a very,  _very_  high pain threshold. The Avada Kadavara however, would more likely as not still work.”

“So she could still be killed by magic?” Harry asked.

Snape nodded. “Despite what she wants to believe, Faith is not invincible.”

“You don't like her, do you?” Harry asked him. “Why?”

Snape sighed. “I'm not fond of her type.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Because she's a muggle?”

“I said her type, Potter. Not her  _kind_. I'm not Lucius Malfoy. I'm not  _that_  much of a blood purist.”

“What do you mean, then?”

“She revels in what she is, which is fine. Being proud of who you are is a perfectly acceptable trait. Confidence in one's self has, is, and always shall be an admirable quality. But she is arrogant. She is exceptionally prideful and she believes she is above the others in station. I don't like that. She likes to flaunt what she can do and what she is.”

Harry thought about his words. “Well, if you think about it, aren't we kind of doing the same thing to her?”

“Explain.” Snape droned.

“Well, she was asked by Dumbledore to come here and instruct. Before she began teaching here, she had no real exposure to the wizarding world. Now, everywhere she looks, she's seeing firsthand what a wand and a will to use it can do. The effects of what wizards are capable of are all around her. In turn, she's showing the rest of us that her own brand of magic, though far more subtle, is no less destructive. But with what she is teaching the class, how far we have come in such a short amount of time, shows that like our world, hers can be beneficial as well.”

Snape stared at him for a moment. “I suppose one could see it that way.” He shook his head. “But the girl is still an arrogant bint.”

Harry rose to his feet, giving Snape a nod. “I guess…” He opened the door to leave. “That's just the byproduct of being the best there is at what she does.” He kept the Potion Master's eyes. “But I wouldn't worry about that if I were you, Professor. After all,” He smiled at the man. “She only kills  _evil_ supernatural threats.” He let the threat hang a moment then left the room.

Snape glared at the door as it closed behind the boy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to address two things. One: Yes, Draco attempted a Cruciatus curse here. No, it didn't work, but he did attempt it. Being who he is, and what he's done, most believe he should end up in Azkaban for it. But Faith, of all people, can appreciate making a mistake in the heat of the moment and having that mistake haunt you for the rest of your life. Given that, she can see it in her to spare the kid a life in prison. A little kindness can go a long way.  
> Two: Yes, Faith respects Lucius. Because she has been there. She's been on the wrong side because she didn't think she had any choice. That, at least in this story, was why she went to the mayor in the first place. She felt everyone else was turning their backs on her. When he started acting like he genuinely cared about her, she stuck with him. She needed compassion and he was the one that offered it, even if it was just bullshit to keep her in line. So she understands why fast talking and empty promises can be tempting. She understands that Lucius' only real interest is in keeping his family safe. Yes, he does seem to be a true asshole, but he also is showing everyone at Hogwarts that he is interested in making certain that the students all get the best education they can. It's hard for someone who's never truly seen him be an asshole (i. e. Faith) to condemn him when the only side of him she sees is the Lucius Malfoy that's taking his role as High Inquisitor so very seriously and make REAL improvements to the school. Yes, she still hates him. Yes, she still wishes he would find a hole to fall into, but she can't deny he's doing real good and making positive changes.  
> So please. I get that everyone who's a Malfoy hater thinks that Draco should rot in Azkaban. But he doesn't. If this is your only complaint with the chapter, rest assured, I get it. It was a difficult decision to wrestle with when writing it, but I felt it was poignant for both Faith's character and a turning point for Draco and his father. I honestly believe there's good in both of them and want to explore the options of this.  
> The whole point of fanfiction, people is interpretation. Remember that when reviewing and commenting.


	22. Chapter 22

 

Faith sat in her office waiting. She tapped her pen on her notepad and looked at the clock on her wall. It was just after nine at night. She had a hell of a plan in the works but needed to make sure the first part of it went off without a hitch. A slight rap on her door caught her attention. “It’s open.” She said, grinning.

Lucius Malfoy stepped in, closing the door behind him tightly. Without a word, he moved over and took a seat in the chair in front of her desk. It was obvious from his stiff posture that he could think of a thousand and one places he’d rather be. She could see in him a fierce and long cultivated pride. He absolutely _hated_ that he was beholden to her for anything. And now he, for all intents and purposes, owed her for saving his son from a life of eternal torment and pain. He owed her his life for what she’d done. “Headmaster Dumbledore accepts your appraisal of the situation in class this afternoon. But he still feels Draco should be punished. He’s been removed from the Slytherin Quidditch team, stripped of his title as Prefect and given detention with Hagrid for the remainder of the year.”

Faith chuckled. “Ouch.” She said, shaking her head. “At least he’s still here. Small blessings.”

“Indeed,” Lucius said. In all honesty, he had expected Dumbledore to expel the child. “You said you wanted to _have a little chat_ , as it were.” He motioned her to speak. “So let’s chat.”

She rose to her feet. “Voldemort’s evil. No surprises there. Even you gotta see that. He wants a shit ton of people dead.” She moved around leaned against the edge of the desk. “What I wanna know is if _you_ do.”

“What do you mean?” Lucius asked.

“Voldemort pretty wants everyone but pureblood wizards _dead_. Not just tossed out of the wizarding world, but annihilated. Wiped out.” She cocked her head and eyed him. “Is that what _you_ want? You can be honest with me. As someone who doesn’t really live in your world and is just visiting and can leave at a moment’s notice, what he wants doesn’t really affect me all that much. I can take Harry with me and disappear, so…be honest.”

He sat there and stared at her. “How do I know you won’t…?”

She pulled her knife from her back and threw it without looking. The blade buried itself in the door, vibrating. “Now I’m unarmed. Answer the question. Do you honestly, in your heart of hearts, buy what Voldemort is selling?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

Malfoy thought about it long and hard. “I believe that the pure bloodlines should be preserved.” He said after a moment. “And I believe that diluting noble bloodlines is… _revolting_.” He added. “But even I am not so blind as to not understand that for strong ties to be formed and for the wizarding world to be preserved a certain amount of… _mingling_ is necessary. Strict screening for only the most gifted and promising of non-wizarding individuals should be conducted, if such is the case.”

“But purebloods just getting tap-happy…” She could see the confusion on his face at her choice of words. “Purebloods just marrying muggles willy-nilly grates on you.” She corrected.

“Precisely.” He said, nodding. “I believe that the wizarding world’s magic, if not its blood purity should be kept strong. It is no secret that less and less pureblood wizards are born every year. Such is a necessary thing.”

“So your take is that just straight up wiping out everyone that isn’t a pureblood is a bad idea?” Faith asked.

“Yes.” He said, finally. “While I am not advocating mixed-blood unions, I can, sadly see their necessity.”

“Good.” Faith said, nodding. “That brings me to the reason I wanted to talk to you.” She pointed to the walls of her office. “You see any paintings in here? You sense any kind of magic that can listen in on what we’re talking about?”

He looked around dutifully and turned back to her. “No. What are you…?”

“I want us to drop pretenses, Mr. Malfoy. You’re a Death Eater. Plain and simple. You know it, I know it and Harry knows it.” He began to speak, but she lifted a hand to stop him. “I’m not done.” She shook her head. “Right now? That’s a very, _very_ good thing.”

“Is it?” He asked, his eyebrow raised.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “It is. And here’s why. Were you in the graveyard that night? When Cedric was killed, were you there?” He stiffened but didn’t answer. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna rat you out or crucify you for it. Harry already saw you there. Mask or not, he knows you.”

“I was present.” He offered, quietly.

“Because Voldemort knows you’re loyal. He knows you won’t betray him. He trusts you.” She again cocked her head. “And you are very, _very_ loyal to the dark lord, aren’t you?”

“I have my reasons,” Lucius said, sternly. “All of us that follow him do.”

“I’m sure you do.” Faith said, smiling. “Got a little experience in that area myself.” She moved around and again sat down. “This is where things get interesting, Mr. Malfoy.” She leaned forward and rested her arms on her desk. “How far would you go to keep your son from Azkaban?”

“Are you blackmailing me, Miss Lehane?”

“I always knew you were a smart man.” She said, chuckling. “You’ve just been drafted, son. You don’t work for Voldemort anymore.” She leaned back in her seat, her arms crossed. “You work for me.”

“Excuse me?” He asked, his brows furrowing.

“From now on, you report what the dark lord is doing directly to me. Not to Dumbledore, not to Fudge, to _me_.” Faith said, matter of fact.

“Are you daft? I’m not putting my family…” Lucius began.

Faith interrupted him. “One phone call and I can have Narcissa moved somewhere that they’d never find her. Draco as long as he’s here at Hogwarts is as safe as he can be.” She shook her head. “This isn’t a negotiation, Malfoy. It’s the way it goes.”

“You’re asking me to spy on the most dangerous man in the wizarding world,” Malfoy said, fear in his voice.

“No.” Faith said. “Let’s get this straight, bud. I’m not _asking_ you to do shit.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m _telling_ you to. This is the price you pay. But understand that, in exchange for that, I’m _guaranteeing_ the safety of your family. This isn’t the only conversation I’m gonna be having to that effect.”

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“Let’s just say that I’m gonna see about putting a few more players on the pitch.” Faith said. “We need people that can’t be bought and can’t be intimidated. And I know just the crew to do it.”

“The Watcher’s Council?”

Faith shook her head. “Nope. Consider them…private contractors.” She said, grinning. “Don’t worry. They’re experts on this kind of shit. Now if I’m not mistaken, you’ve got work to do.”

He sighed and rose to his feet. “You guarantee that my family will be safe?” He asked, suddenly sounding very vulnerable.

She got to her feet and moved around to stand in front of him. She offered her hand to him. “I like to think my word means something these days. He wants your wife and your kid, he’s gonna have to roll over me to get ‘em.”

Lucius stared into her eyes. He often considered himself a rather good judge of people. He could see the heartfelt _promise_ held there. “Very well.” He said, taking her hand in a firm grip. “I will inform you of anything I learn.”

“Appreciate it.” She returned. “Just so you don’t freak out, you’re probably going to lose contact with your wife for a while. Just until they can get her set up someplace.”

“But she won’t be harmed?” He asked her.

“No. It’ll probably freak her the hell out, but they won’t injure her, I promise.” Faith said.

He swallowed and nodded. “Very well. I’ll be able to speak with her after she’s relocated?”

Faith pulled her cell out. “I’ll have her call here and you can talk to her directly.”

He breathed deep. “Then I leave it in your hands.” He narrowed his eyes. “But understand something, Miss Lehane. If she’s mishandled in any way, we will have an accounting. And I assure you, you will not find the encounter a pleasant one.”

She wasn’t necessarily afraid of the man. She knew she could drop him before he ever got his wand clear, but she knew that making the threat made him felt worlds better. “Fair enough.” She conceded. “I’ve got a couple of phone calls to make.”

“Then I will leave you to it.” He said, moving to the door. “Good luck, Professor.” He left the room.

Faith sat down and quickly dialed Quentin’s number.

“Good evening, Faith.” He offered. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

“I’ve got an insider in Voldemort’s court.” She returned. “But it’s gonna cost us.”

“Oh? Who is it and what do we owe them?” He asked, curiously.

“Lucius Malfoy. He’s one of Voldemort’s inner circle. His kid tried using one of the unforgivable curses on me earlier today.”

“From what I’ve been given to understand, that earns a wizard a one-way ticket to Azkaban.”

“Yeah. Kid was pissed at me and let rip. Didn’t do much, but he still tried. In exchange for not sending him upriver, Lucius agreed to dime on Moldy-shorts for me.”

“Then pardon me for asking, but why does he…?” Quentin began to ask.

“The man has a family.” Faith interrupted him. “He’s got a wife and a kid. Draco is here at Hogwarts. Harry and I can look after him, but his wife, Narcissa is a sitting duck if Monkey-shit learns what Lucius is doing and gets creative. She needs to be moved and protected.”

“So you, what? Want us to abduct her and relocate her?” Quentin asked her.

“That’s exactly what you need to do.”

“Where do you suggest I send her?” He inquired.

“How the hell should I know?” Faith said, shrugging. “I’m not the brains of the outfit, Q, you are.”

“Well, we’d definitely need to get her out of England,” Quentin said, sighing. “But I’m only willing to do this if your connection with Lucius Malfoy bears fruit. I’m not allocating council resources on a wasted endeavor.”

“Trust me, he doesn’t give me something to go on, I’m with you.” Faith said. “But I think he’s good for it, with the right motivation.”

“The safety of one’s family is quite a good incentive, I must admit,” Quentin said. He was quiet for a moment. “Faith?” He began, softly. “I’m very proud of you.”

Faith was stricken speechless. From everything she’d heard of the man, he didn’t offer praise lightly. “You are?” She asked him, her voice filled with emotion.

“Yes.” He said, sincerely. “You’ve been conducting yourself like a professional. You’ve used a great deal of intelligence in dealing with this entire situation. You’ve made great strides in turning your life around. That warrants recognition.” She could hear him smile. “ _This_ is the slayer you were always meant to be.”

“Thanks, Q. Hearing that means a lot to me.” Faith said, happily.

“We’ll get Narcissa Malfoy moved to someplace safe.”

“I let Lucius know that she would be incommunicado for a spell.” Faith said. “But when she gets settled, have her contact me on my cell so Lucius can speak with her. It’ll make him feel better to know she’s safe.”

“We’ll be in touch,” Quentin said, ending the call.

Faith sighed and nodded. “Two down, two to go.” She said, rising from her desk. She made her way to the Headmaster’s office. She looked at her watch and hoped to god the man was still awake. She smiled when the gargoyle slid aside and revealed the spiral staircase. She rose into the room to see Dumbledore seated in one of the comfortable chairs reading a book. “Hey, D.” She said, moving over to lean against his desk. She snatched a lemon drop from the bowl on his desk and popped it into her mouth.

“Hello, Faith.” He said, closing the book and resting it on his lap.

“Heard what you did to Draco.” Faith offered. She crossed her arms and nodded. “No Quidditch, no Prefect authority, and detention with Hagrid? Harsh.” She grinned. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

“What he did was quite serious. An example must be made. I can appreciate you not wanting him to face stiffer penalties such as imprisonment, but still…”

“I getcha. Can’t let kids think they can just bust that shit out without facing fallout. Makes every bit of sense.” Faith said. “I’ve been wondering how your hunt for a divinations teacher is goin’? I know Lucius is thinking of giving Treylawney the boot.”

Dumbledore sighed. “I’ve not had the luck I’d have hoped for.” He said, sadly. “My first choice is somewhat…flighty.”

“If it helps, I know someone that could probably fit the bill.” Faith said. “She’s an old friend of mine…” She paused. “Okay, not so much of a friend, but I do know her. When I was in Sunnydale, she went to high school there. She’s a full on Seer and isn’t phased by any of this…” She said, motioning around. “And I’m sure she’d be a hell of a teacher.”

Dumbledore looked at her. He studied her for a second. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

“She’s American.” Faith said. “And she more likely as not comes as part of a package.”

“Explain.” He said, interlacing his fingers over his book.

“Her name is Cordelia Chase and she works with a Vampire and an Ex-Watcher.” Faith said. “I honestly think they could be useful. Angel’s over two hundred plus years old with a soul. He’s one of the good guys. He was an evil as hell vampire back in the day. Truthfully, given how twisted and screwed up Voldemort is, we could probably use someone who can think like that. Someone who can get inside the man’s head. And he’s a hell of a fighter. We can use him out on the streets finding shit out while we’re in here. Wesley, he’s the Ex-Watcher, has gray matter from hell. He’s a hell of a researcher. We could see about him getting put back on the Watcher’s payroll.”

“Why was he terminated?” Dumbledore asked.

Faith had to admit, it was a fair question. “Because of me.” She admitted, sadly. “When I turned my back on everyone in Sunnydale, he was fired because the Watcher’s Council deemed that he’d failed as a Watcher. Truth was, he tried. He tried to do his job and I wouldn’t let him.”

Dumbledore looked at the girl long and hard. He had to admit many things to himself. Not the least of which was that having a trio of individuals that had no ties to Voldemort in the least would be a great benefit. The part of it that he _didn’t_ care for was that the only tenuous link these people would have to him and the fight at large was the unstable violent girl in front of him. This Cordelia, Angel, and Wesley would be loyal to Faith and not to him. A seer, a centuries-old vampire, and a former Watcher were rather dangerous loose cannons to have about. “Say I agreed to this. What guarantee would I have that they would follow instructions?”

“That’s just it.” Faith said. “They’d act independently. That’s what we’d want them to do.”

“How do you figure that?” He asked her.

“Keep in mind, this is if they say yes. I haven’t actually asked yet.” Faith said. “But from the bottom up, Cordelia would be here, so she’s kind of a no count. I figure we could hook Wesley up with the Council and have him work as a bridge between them and the Order. See what kind of info the Watcher’s Council can gather and collaborate our efforts. See if we might be able to get out ahead of Voldemort and give ourselves a fair fight. As I already said, Angel would hit the streets at night and see about getting us some real-time intel. Maybe trace not only Voldemort’s movements but see what he’s doing in his day to day. Who he might have working with him, who he might be recruiting, that kind of shit. Angel knows a lot of people. He has contacts that we hadn’t even thought about yet. That might be nice to have.”

Dumbledore nodded. It all made wonderful sense and would be one hell of a benefit. “Alright. If you can convince this group to come and assist us, I’d be willing to do what I can.”

Faith returned his nod. “I’ll make the phone call and see what I can work out.” She snagged another lemon drop and put it into her mouth. “These things are addictive.” She said, shaking her head. “I’ll let you know what they say.” She said, heading to the stairs.

“Good luck.” He said, picking his book back up. “Let me know.”

Faith made it to her apartment and sat on the bed. She stared at her phone before dialing a number she was hoping she’d _never_ have to call.

“Angel Investigations, we help the helpless.” Cordelia’s chipper voice answered.

Faith was quiet for several seconds.

“Hello?” Cordy asked. “Is there anyone there?”

“Hey, Cordelia.” Faith finally said.

“Who is this?” Cordelia asked, curiously. “You sound really familiar.”

“Please don’t hang up.”

Cordy’s blood went cold. “Faith.” She said, matter of fact. “Never thought I’d hear your voice again.”

“I know.” The slayer said. “Is Angel there? I really need to speak with him.”

“Why?” Cordy asked. “He’s gonna want me to ask.”

Faith had to give the girl credit. She figured she’d be hung up on. “I need help.” Before Cordy could say anything, Faith cut her off. “I know, I know. I don’t have any right to ask or any right to…”

“Shut up, Faith,” Cordy said, sternly. “Where are you and what do you need?”

“What?” Faith asked, shocked.

“You were a bit on the dim side, Faith, but I remember you understanding basic English. Where are you and what do you need help with?”

“Um…I’m in England actually.” Faith said. “I figured you all were going to take some convincing.”

“Giles called Angel a while ago, asking about someone named Voldemort. That led to a conversation about you and how you were trying to turn over a new leaf. I could sit here and call you names and say what a colossal bitch you were, or I could just shut the hell up and help you.” Cordelia said, simply. “If you’re trying to do right, then we’re going to make sure you do. I know that’s what Angel would want.”

“Is he…?”

“He’s asleep. Things are kind of hectic right now.” Cordy said. “I’m not waking him up. We got vampire problems.”

“Par for the course for LA, isn’t it?” Faith asked.

“You ever heard of Darla or Drusilla?” Cordy asked her.

“Yeah. You guys talked about ‘em back in Sunny D.” Faith said. “They givin’ you guys shit?”

“To say the least. And Angel isn’t exactly thinking clearly as far as they’re concerned.”

“I’m sure Buffy would be…”

“He won’t call her. And he strictly forbid us from getting her involved. She’s got her own problems right now.”

“You want me to fly to LA and help out?” Faith asked. “I owe him for what he tried to do for me and what I did to him.”

Cordy was quiet for a long time. “I would appreciate it.”

“I’m on my way.” Faith said. “Be a little while, but I’ll get there.”

“Thank you,” Cordelia said. “It’ll be nice to see you again. Before you went insane and started stabbing people, you were actually pretty nice.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, Cordy.” Faith said, ending the call. She had travel plans to make.

 


	23. Chapter 23

Faith once again found herself heading up to the headmaster’s office. Dumbledore was still seated, reading a book. He looked up as she ascended into his office. “Did you manage to get in touch with your companions in the colonies?” He asked, smiling.

“Yeah,” She said, leaning against his desk. “There’s a bit of a problem, though. I need to take Harry and fly to Los Angeles to help them out before they can come to the Islands.”

Dumbledore cocked his head. “You have duties…”

“I know,” She said, nodding. “I do. But this is something I have to do. Angel is a really good guy and I need to do right by him. I understand the chance you guys are giving me, but I’ve gotta help him out.”

“What seems to be the problem?” Dumbledore asked.

“He’s got a couple of vampires from his past that are causing him some problems. They can both get into his head and I gotta step in before they mess him up,” Faith said, shaking her head. “I owe him.”

“If you feel it’s that important, I’ll not stand in your way. I suppose Nymphadora can take over your class until you return, but why do you want Harry going with you? He’s just a boy. He’s not even a full-fledged wizard, yet.”

Faith raised an eyebrow. “Really? Everything the kid’s done and you’re gonna say that shit?”

“He’s accomplished much, but…” Dumbledore began.

Faith cut him off. “He’s clocked more combat time than just about any wizard at this school. He’s gone head to head with Voldemort more than anyone. Even you have to admit that. He may not have the arsenal, but there’s no denying that he has the experience.”

Dumbledore couldn’t deny the logic in Faith’s assessment. Harry Potter was every bit the capable young magic user. It wasn’t the fact that he’d be in danger that had the aged wizard worried. Once upon a time, Faith had threatened to abscond with Harry and leave the Order to tackle Voldemort on their own. There was very little stopping her and Harry from simply choosing to stay in the states. If they made the decision, there was little, if anything he could truly do about it. He was a fairly powerful man in local circles, but in America, his influence was nigh nonexistent.

Faith could see the consternation on his face. “You’re afraid he won’t wanna come back, aren’t you?”

Dumbledore was shocked that she could so readily read him. “It is a concern,” He revealed. “Harry is young…”

“But he’s also an honorable kid,” Faith piped in. “He realizes how important he is. He’s not gonna leave you all in the lurch.” She sighed heavily, rubbing her face in her hands. “Why don’t you try _talking_ to him?” Faith asked him. “Just sit down with him and let him know you give a damn. He trusts you, but he’s also hurt that you won’t talk to him. He told Mack that he’s sick of everyone talking _about_ him and talking _at_ him, but no one talking _to_ him. He deserves to be spoken to like a human being. You keep treating him like you are and you’re right. He’s not gonna wanna come back. But if he’s informed of how important he is and how much he’s appreciated, it might go a long way to making him wanna come home.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Dumbledore offered. “But you still didn’t answer my question. Why do you want Harry with you so badly?”  

“Three reasons. One, I love him and don’t wanna be apart from him for that long. I also don’t like the idea of leaving him here alone. I trust you all to a point, but I like being able to watch out for him myself. Two, Harry’s proven himself to be a badass and it would be nice to have someone I trust with my life at my back, in case shit gets out of hand. Three, I figure the kid would probably appreciate the break from the monotony. With everything he’s faced over the past few years, he might appreciate a little vacation.”

“You’re not going on vacation, Faith. You’re going to fight vampires,” Dumbledore corrected her.

“Harry can handle it, trust me,” Faith said. She then lowered her head and let out a breath. “I think,” She paused a moment and looked at him. “I’m better with him around. We both have things in our past that makes it hard to sleep at night. Harry and I both have nightmares when we’re alone. That thing you talked about?” Faith tapped her forehead. “I think you might be onto something. I think Moldy-butt might be making him relive that night over and over again just to fuck with his head. But when Harry’s in bed with me, Moldy can’t get to him. Somehow, Harry’s calmer and able to just shove that shit aside. Same thing with me. All the guilt and shit that makes my nights hard just kinda fade with Harry wrapped around me.”

Dumbledore could see that the admission was a hard one to make for the slayer. Faith was the kind of girl that didn’t like to confess to weakness. “I would like to speak with Harry before I permit this. With you present of course.”

“I’ll go and get him.” Faith said. “I know it’s late, but time is a factor.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll be here.”

Faith left his office and made her way to the Gryffindor dorms. She spoke the password and climbed through the doorway, heading into the common room. Harry and Ron sat on one of the sofas, conversing. “Hey, Ron. Hey, baby.” Harry immediately shot to his feet and trotted toward her, kissing her fiercely.

“Lucky sod,” Ron said, quietly. Faith gave him a thumbs up behind Harry’s back.

They pulled apart and Harry smiled at her. “What brings you all the way up here?” He asked her.

“D wanted me to come and get you. He’s gotta talk to you for a minute,” Faith said. “Come on.” She took his hand and pulled him toward the door. “Don’t wait up, Ron.” She said before leaving the Gryffindor tower with Harry in tow.

“What did he want to speak to me about?” Harry asked, curiously.

Faith could hear the nervousness in his voice and gave his hand a squeeze. “Nothing bad, don’t worry.” She gave him a hug and a smile.

A few moments later, Harry and Faith were both seated in the Headmaster’s office, sipping tea. “How are you feeling, Harry?”

“I’m fine, sir.” He said, nervously.

Dumbledore sensed his tension and gave him a warm grandfatherly smile. “You don’t have to be nervous, Harry. You aren’t in trouble. Professor Lehane tells me you’re doing quite well in your lessons. As do all of your instructors. How do _you_ feel your studies are going?”

“I believe they’re going well, sir,” Harry said, looking at Faith and back to him. “Sir? What is this about?”

“It’s just a chance for us to chat, Harry. I know I’ve been a bit…distant lately.” He sighed, and decided to drop pretenses. “I’m going to share something with you. Do you remember telling me that your scar would grow ever more uncomfortable when the dark lord drew near?” Harry gave a nod. “Have you been feeling…more emotional lately? Angered more than you should be, disappointed more than you should be, and not know why?”

“How did you…?” Harry began to inquire, but Dumbledore cut him off.

“Thinking back, has it become more and more pronounced since Voldemort returned to his own body and his full powers?”

Harry did as he was told and pondered. He had to admit, throughout the summer, after the events of Cedric’s death, after his encounter with Voldemort, he’d been feeling angry nearly nonstop. Unless he was with Faith, he was irritated by nearly everyone and everything. Mostly, he was able to control it, but only just. It took monumental effort to keep from being short with his friends. “I suppose it has at that,” Harry offered. “Why are you asking me this?”

“I believe that you and the dark lord share a…mental connection of sorts.” He reached up and touched Harry’s scar. “Through this, I believe he can sense your thoughts, see what you see and possibly know what you know. More recently,” said Dumbledore, “I became concerned that

Voldemort might realize that this connection between you exists.”

Harry nodded his understanding. “And because of this connection, you couldn’t tell me anything of the Order’s plans because he might hear them?”

“Precisely.”

“That makes sense,” Harry said, nodding. “If you’d have just told me that…”

Dumbledore continued. “There are many dangerous things he could do with this link, were he of a proper mind to. Not simply reading your thoughts or seeing your world.” At both Faith and Harry’s questioning look, he sighed deeply. “Possession,” Dumbledore said. “Full and complete.”

“Like Quirrell?” Harry asked.

“Similar,” Dumbledore said, nodding.

“Wait. Voldemort could actually straight up _possess_ Harry? Like, control his body and shit?” Faith asked.

“If he is strong enough of will, yes,” Dumbledore said.

Faith looked at Harry and bit her lip. She would make _damn_ sure she asked Angel and Wesley about that when she met with them. If there was anyone who would know how to get Voldemort out of Harry’s head, it would be Angel. Harry, for his part, turned to her. “Before my trial, was _that_ the secret that you couldn’t tell me?”

Faith nodded to him. “I wanted to. I felt you deserved to know.”

He could see the sadness in her eyes at having to keep secrets from him. “It’s alright.” He turned to Dumbledore. “Thank you for telling me, Professor.”

“There’s more,” Dumbledore said. “Do you remember asking me, as you lay in the hospital wing at the end of your first year, why Voldemort had tried to kill you when you were a baby?”

Harry nodded. He remembered that conversation quite well. He hadn’t however dwelt on it since. Now it was fresh in his mind. “Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day…put it from your mind, for now, Harry. When you are older…I know you hate to hear this…when you are ready, you will know.”

Faith let out a barking laugh. “Douchebag.” She said, looking at him. “Yeah, Harry, there’s a fuckin’ psycho madman after your ass, but I’m not gonna tell you why.” She shook her head. “How fucked up is that?”

Dumbledore stared at her. If her outburst aggravated him in the least, he showed no sign of it. “An old man’s mistake,” He said, simply. “While I don’t believe that is something an eleven-year-old boy should know…”

“Or a twelve-year-old boy,” Faith said, ticking her fingers off. “Or thirteen, or fourteen, or fifteen…” She leaned forward to stare at him. “If I hadn’t come up here to talk to you and told you to do this, would you even be telling him now?” She asked.

He didn’t have an answer. He turned from her to Harry. “I _am_ telling you now.”

Harry, though initially angered by the lack of information, was glad that Faith had prompted the Headmaster to have this talk with him. And he did trust Dumbledore. The old wizard had reasons for what he chose to do. He chose to say something very American. “We’ll ignore that fact that you’re a tad late to the soiree and embrace the fact that you showed up at all.”

Dumbledore couldn’t hide his smirk. He turned to Faith. She laughed out loud. “That’s awesome.”

“And you say I’m the douche,” Dumbledore said, shaking his head. Faith just looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Fair point.” He looked back to Harry. “Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth. He knew the prophecy had been made, though he did not know its full contents. He set out to kill you when you were still a baby, believing he was fulfilling the terms of the prophecy. He discovered, to his cost, that he was mistaken, when the curse intended to kill you backfired. And so, since his return to his body, and particularly since your extraordinary escape from him last year, he has been determined to hear that prophecy in its entirety. This is the weapon he has been seeking so desperately since his return: the knowledge of how to destroy you.”

“What does the prophecy say?” Harry asked.

“On a cold, wet night sixteen years ago, in a room above the bar at the Hog’s Head Inn. I had gone there to see an applicant for the post of Divinations teacher, though it was against

my inclination to allow the subject of Divination to continue at all.”

“I think Umbridge and Lucius would agree with you there.” Faith said. Dumbledore flashed her a look. She flopped back in the chair and looked at Harry.

He took her hand and squeezed it before turning back to Dumbledore.

“The applicant, as you know, was the great-great-granddaughter of a very famous, very gifted Seer, and I thought it common politeness to meet her. I was disappointed. It seemed to me that she had not a trace of the gift herself. I told her, courteously I hope, that I did not think she would be suitable for the post. I turned to leave.”

“Should have kept walkin’,” Faith said quietly. Harry hid his grin, by looking down sheepishly.

Dumbledore ignored her and rose to his feet, moving past Harry and Faith to the black cabinet that stood beside Fawkes’s perch. He bent down, slid back a catch, and took a shallow stone basin, carved with runes about the edges from within. Harry was familiar with the device.

“My old Watcher, Diana had something that looked like that,” Faith offered, off hand. “Never knew what it was used for, though.”

“It is a Pensieve. It’s used to view memories,” Harry offered. “You can show others things you remember. I also helps with recall.”

“Huh,” Faith said. “That’s nifty.”

Dumbledore walked back to the desk, placed the Pensieve upon it, and raised his wand to his own temple. Thin, silvery strands clung to the wand. He lowered the end and touched it to the basin. He sat back a moment and watched as the threads swirled around in the bowl. Then, with a sigh, he raised his wand and prodded the silvery substance with its tip.

Faith and Harry watched as a figure, draped in shawls, her eyes magnified to their enormous size behind her thick glasses. She slowly spun, as if on a turntable. They were both stunned when the woman spoke. Her voice was deep, harsh and hoarse. “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…” She went on to repeat the prophecy again. She slowly sank back into the water. 

For several seconds no one made a sound. The silence in the room was permeating. Then, quietly at first, growing steadily louder…Faith began laughing. Both Harry and Dumbledore stared at her, obviously not understanding the humor. Finally, Dumbledore cleared his throat. “Sorry,” She said, wiping her eyes. “I just…” She sighed and shook her head.

“Care to let us in on the joke?” He asked, irritation tainting his voice.

“I’m sorry,” She said again. “But…that was some of the most nonsensical _bullshit_ I’ve ever heard.”

“It was rather poignant,” Dumbledore said, not understanding her meaning.

“Okay,” Faith said, leaning forward. “I’ve got quite a bit of knowledge on prophecies and portents. Part of the training of being slayer is learning how to recognize signs and shit. So let me ease your minds, gentlemen.” She pointed to the Pensieve. “ _That_ prophecy was complete bullshit.”

“How?” Harry asked.

“Well, aside from the fact that you, sitting here right now proves it.” Faith said. “If you go by the letter of the prophecy itself, just you and Voldemort existing at the same time proves it wrong. Neither can live while the other survives. Given that, you’re both alive…?” She shrugged. “See what I’m getting at? If what the prophecy said is true, one of two things would have happened. The second Voldemort gained his body back, you would have dropped dead or he would have. The both of you breathing and walking around at the same time is a game-finisher.”

Harry furrowed his brow and turned toward Dumbledore. The aged wizard was staring at Faith with a look of…he wasn’t sure _what_ the expression was. It looked as a mix of confusion, anger, and relief. Neither spoke. Faith turned from one to the other and back. “Look. Prophecies are fickle. Yeah, most of the time, they mean a hell of a lot more than what the letter says, but they’re also never, _ever_ written in stone. They outline a possible future, a _possible_ scenario. They can – and _have_ – been wrong,” Faith offered. “I’ve seen it happen.”

“Really?” Dumbledore asked, his voice a bit sharper than he intended.

If Faith noticed, she showed no indication of it. “You ever heard of the Pergamum Codex?” She asked the Headmaster.

He gave her a nod. “I have heard it mentioned in more…scholarly circles.”

“In that book, it tells of a prophecy that the Master, some old as shit vampire will destroy the slayer and rise from his supernatural prison and be free to walk the world of man,” She gave him a smile. “The Master was slain like, four years ago and the girl that was supposed to die?” She shook her head. “Still in Sunnydale whoopin’ ass.”

Dumbledore finally saw what Faith was getting at. “But,” He began, leaning forward to look intently into her eyes. “Correct me if I am mistaken, but a slayer has to die for another to be called, yes?” Faith nodded. He motioned to her. “And here you sit, a slayer, while there is still one alive in the states.”

“Yeah. Buffy basically flat-lined, but was resuscitated. She didn’t stay dead.” Faith said. “I see what you did there. You think, because Buffy _did_ die, for all of the like, nine seconds she was _technically_ dead,” She made quotation marks in the air, “And that the prophecy was fulfilled, right?”

“One could logically make the argument,” Dumbledore said.

Faith had to give him that. “Fair enough. But let me ask you something. What would have happened if Buffy hadn’t gone to fight him? Or better yet, what if she’d been better prepared and had taken his ass out? What would have happened to the prophecy then?” Dumbledore didn’t have an answer for that. “You see, that’s the problem with prophecies. They don’t take into account human nature. They don’t take into account human interference. People put so much stock in them because they’re so ridiculously vague, that it’s unreal. I mean, come on. ‘Born to those that have thrice defied him’. What does that even mean? That could be anyone. It could have been the guy at the drive through at McDonalds that had to tell him three times that they don’t serve burgers at seven in the morning. It could be the woman at the DMV who told him _no_ three times,” She shook her head. Harry snickered, but Dumbledore wasn’t amused. “And _born as the seventh month dies_. There’s some cryptic bullshit right there. Seventh month according to what calendar? It can vary pretty wildly from culture to culture. There are too many unanswered questions.”

Dumbledore stared at her. He’d never, in the past sixteen years even dared to question the prophecy until this moment. “So…what you’re saying is that we should just ignore the prophecy in its entirety?”

She shrugged. “I would. It sounds like bullshit. And given that by simply drawing breath at the same time, Harry and Voldemort are both proving it, if the letter of the prediction is anything to go by. And that whole ‘must die at the hand of the other’ is just as big a load. I guarantee you that I can, A: Kill this son of a bitch’s body, and B: Find his power center or whatever it is that’s keeping his ass alive and stomp it to shit. I wouldn’t even need Harry’s help to do that.”

The boy grinned widely and looked at Dumbledore smugly. He motioned to Faith. “He will have power that the Dark Lord knows not.” Faith looked at him and smiled brightly.

Dumbledore couldn’t dispute the assessment. “Then how do you suggest we proceed? Taking the prophecy out of the equation for the time being, as a more… _physically_ minded individual, what would you do?”

“I’m taking the first steps. By recruiting Angel and company, we’re bringing allies to the table that are outside Voldemort’s sphere of influence. They’re part of the muggle world and he largely doesn’t busy himself with that.” Dumbledore nodded. “The second thing I would concentrate on is _finding_ him. If you locate where he’s holed up, you can mount some sort of offensive. He’s gonna be prepared for a bunch of wizards to take his ass out and ward the shit out of his current hideout. So you go old school muggle on his ass.”

“What do you mean?” Dumbledore asked.

“Say you locate his place, the chances are strong that everyone present is going to be Death Eaters and people loyal to him, right?” Dumbledore gave her a nod. “Napalm,” Faith said, simply. “A few grand to the right hands and you could have a skilled bush pilot dump that shit into his lap. Yeah, it might not kill him, but it’ll definitely throw him off balance and take a crap load of his support with it.”

“While that idea might have merit, in theory, there is still the matter of muggles not being able to see past the wards…” Dumbledore began.

“Tell that to Umbridge,” Faith said. “Not a wizard,” She pointed to herself. “Yet here I am, sitting in your office.”

Dumbledore was stricken speechless. He realized, at that moment, he was guilty of one of the same mistakes Voldemort was making. He had completely discounted Faith and her resources in favor of tried and true wizarding tactics. Even the team of men that had crept into the school and made off with Dolores hadn’t been enough to make him consider other options. But now, he had no choice but to accept a different perspective. “Perhaps when you return, we can discuss the Watcher’s Council’s involvement a bit more thoroughly.”

Harry looked at Faith as she nodded. “You got it.”

“Return from where?” Harry asked, curiously. “Are you going somewhere?”

“We’re going to the states, baby.” Faith said. “We’re on a recruitment drive.”

“What?” Harry looked from Dumbledore to Faith and back. “I get to go to America?” He asked, excitedly.

Dumbledore nodded. He rose to his feet and moved to the far side of the room. He removed Godric Gryffindor’s sword, slid it into the sheath and turned about, carrying it to Harry. “You will be going into a dangerous situation while you are there. Faith informs me that there are two vampires that are in need of slaying. She has asked that you accompany her. If you are to be marching into battle with the supernatural, then you should be armed with more than your wand.”

Harry took the blade and looked it over. “Are you sure, headmaster?” He asked, looking up at Dumbledore.

“Quite sure, Harry.” He gave the boy a smile. “But I am going to want it back.”

“Yeah, D’s afraid you won’t wanna come back.” Faith said. “I told him you would.”

Harry looked at Dumbledore. “I’ll come back, sir.” He gave the old wizard a hug. “Prophecy or not, I’m going to help destroy Voldemort. He killed my parents. He deserves to die for that.”

Dumbledore saw the edge in Harry’s eyes. “I believe you, Harry,” He said with a nod. “Now go and pack a bag. I’ll contact Sirius and let him know what is happening.”

Harry was out of the office like a shot. Faith rose to follow him. “Take care of him,” Dumbledore said in all seriousness. “Even if you don’t put any stock in the prophecy, Voldemort obviously does.”

“I know,” Faith said. “I’m counting on it.” Dumbledore furrowed his brow. “It makes him _predictable_. It tells us what he wants, at least in the short term. As long as Harry’s alive, we know he has an Achilles Heel. It’s something we can exploit.”

Dumbledore gave her a nod. “Fair point. Good luck, Faith.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She turned to left the office and headed for her own quarters to pack her own bag.

 

             


	24. Chapter 24

Faith dropped her bag and turned to regard Dumbledore. “You have my word,” She began swallowing as she stared into his wizened and concerned eyes. “I’ll bring him back. Nothing’s gonna happen to him on my watch.”

He rested a strong hand on her shoulder. “I have faith in you.” His eyes sparkled with mirth.

She chuckled at him. “You just couldn’t help it, could you?”

“Some you only do for yourself,” Dumbledore admitted. He then turned to Harry. “Here.” He pulled a folded parchment from his robes. “I wanted to show you this. It might give you some peace of mind. Especially given the rather unfortunate business before the school year got underway.”

Harry took if and unfolded it. Faith looked over his shoulder as he read. “To Whom It May Concern; I wish it to be wholly and fully understood that I have exercised my authority as Headmaster of Hogwarts Academy of Wizardry and Witchcraft and placed upon one Harry Potter the right to use fair judgment in the use of magic outside of the school walls and immediate grounds. Any spells, jinxes, curses, charms he uses, should his life be in any danger are done so with my expressed permission. Any grievances or concerns you have regarding his actions will be directed at me. Signed, Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.”

“Damn.” Faith said, chuckling. “That’s a mouthful.”

Dumbledore looked at her and back to Harry. “I want your conscience clear and to know that you can utilize all of your talents should the need arise. You will not be pursued by the Wizengamot.”

“That’s good to know, right baby?” Faith asked, wrapping her arms about him from behind. The sight made the elder wizard smile.

“It is nice to know I won’t have to worry about another trial,” Harry said. “One was enough.”

“Tell me about it.” Faith said. “Kinda did enjoy it, though.”

“Yes. The looks on the Wizengamot’s collected faces when you pummeled the Dementor into the stone was rather amusing.” Dumbledore admitted. “You didn’t hear me say that.” He added, slyly. Faith made a zipping motion across her lips and held up two fingers. “Be careful, Harry.”

“I will.” He said, throwing his arms about the man’s waist. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

“Do try to enjoy yourself a bit. Faith was right. You have earned it.”

“Thank you, Headmaster.” Harry offered with a nod. “We’re ready.”

Dumbledore tossed a handful of powder into the fireplace, causing it to flare. “Alright, in you go.”

The pair stepped into the fireplace, one after the other, emerging from the hearth in the lounge of Grimmauld Place. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were both present to greet them. “Harry,” Sirius said, pulling the boy in for a hug. He then turned to Faith, likewise hugging her. “It is nice to see you both again.”

“You, too.” Faith said. She offered her fist to Lupin, who bumped it hesitantly. “What up, Loops?”

“You and your nicknames, I swear,” Remus said, shaking his head.

Sirius and Harry chuckled. “I think I like that better than _Moony_.” The elder man said.

“I will hurt you, Sirius.” Lupin snarled.

“That threat hasn’t worked for more than twenty years, Moony,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “Do the two of you have time to stay the evening?”

Faith bit her lip and shook her head. “Not really. Time’s kind of a factor at the moment.”

He sighed but nodded. “I understand. Explains why there’s a car out front.”

Faith furrowed her brow and stepped over to the window. She pulled aside the drapes and saw the black Mercedes E63 AMG saloon sitting on the street. “Huh.” She said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone.

After explaining who she was to the secretary, she was quickly put through. “Good morning, Faith.”

“I’m really hoping the AMG Mercedes I’m looking at is your doing.” She said to him. “Otherwise, I gotta educate some fools.”

“Stand down, Faith. Yes, I sent the car. I’ve been made aware of your plans to travel to Los Angeles to help out. The driver will take you to London Heathrow, where you’ll  board the private plane that we keep on standby. Chances are good with the weapons you are taking, you wouldn’t pass customs anyhow.”

“We’re flying on a private jet?” Faith asked, looking at Harry. “That’s pretty awesome.”

“There will be a rental car already waiting for you when you arrive in the states.” Quentin offered. “I want it understood…”

“Yeah, I know. You don’t like that Angel’s a vampire.” Faith said. “I’ve heard the sales pitch.”

“You are adding an unpredictable element into an already volatile situation,” Quentin said. “I want you to appreciate the danger that represents.”

“I do, believe me.” Faith said. “But of all the people in Sunnydale, he was really the only one that understood what was happening to me. B’s efforts were just kind of to relieve her conscience. At least that was always how it felt. But Angel _genuinely_ tried.” Her tone immediately turned bitter. “Then you motherfuckers showed up.”

If her sharp tone bothered him, he showed no sign of it. “Accuse all you like, Faith.” He said, his voice stern. “But the fact remains a man died. And it was your hand that ended his life. Had I known _all_ the facts, I assure you, Miss Summers would have been in chains right beside you. She was just a culpable in Deputy Mayor Finch’s death as you were. I understand that now. I didn’t then.”

Faith understood, in all honesty, that it was as close to an apology as she was going to get. “That’s why I gotta help Angel.” She decided to get back on topic. “I owe it to him. He never would have given up on me.”

“I do believe that. Thus, we are willing to assist you in this matter. The Watcher’s Councils resources, within reason, are at your disposal.” He said to her. “As I said, I believe you are adding an unknown into far from ideal circumstances, _but_ recruiting Angel to aid in the war to come _is_ a clever idea. Even if Voldemort learns what he is and restores his Angelus persona, the vampire would never work for him if what we know of him is to be believed. And Voldemort, from all we have researched of him, would never agree to share his power with anyone, especially a non-wizard vampire. Angel or Angelus, it really doesn’t matter. In both, Voldemort would have a powerful enemy.”

Faith nodded. She’d never truly been privy to what Angelus could do firsthand, but she’d heard stories. Buffy didn’t like to talk about it, but Xander hated the vampire with a fiery passion and wasn’t ginger with the details. When Faith had asked around, fearing that the boy’s recounting of events was biased and skewed more than a little by jealousy, she learned that, if anything, he’d undersold just how terrifying the vampire truly was. “We’re gonna kinda need all the help we can get.”

“I know, dear,” Quentin said, softly. “Go and get that help.”

Faith could tell there was something else. “You sound like you got more to say.” She offered.

“It bothers me that you can read me so well. Especially over the phone.” He let out a breath. “Buffy Summers…is in trouble.”

“When isn’t she?” Faith asked. “She’s a slayer. Kind of our bread and butter, isn’t it?”

“This is different. What she faces now is beyond anything she’s ever dealt with before.”

Faith didn’t like the way his voice sounded. “Holy shit.” She said, realizing what she was hearing. “You’re scared.”

“Before I share anything with you, I want to know if you’re…” He sighed. “I realize this is a lot to ask, but…”

“I’m there.” Faith said, shaking her head. “Last time B and I talked, I told her that if she needed help, I would be there for her in a hot second. You need me in Sunnyhell, I’m on a bus.”

“Do what you need to in Los Angeles first,” Quentin said. “Your current assignment is the safety of Harry Potter and the destruction of the Dark Lord Voldemort. Once that is finished, if you would be willing to help Buffy…”

“I’m willing.” Faith said, nodding.

“Then let the driver know that you will be coming to speak with me before you head to the airport. I’ll give you some information to pass on to Buffy.”

“See you in a bit.” She said, ending the call. She turned to Harry. “Yeah. The car’s for us. But we gotta make a pitstop.”

“Alright,” Harry said, nodding. He turned to Sirius and Lupin. “I’m sorry I can’t stay.”

Both men hugged him tightly. “It’s alright,” Sirius said, emotion choking his voice. “You have business.”

Faith bit her lip. “Why don’t you come with us?” She asked him. “I mean, you’re a wanted criminal in London, but I can guarantee you, no one in the states is gonna have any clue who you are. And a quick change of clothes and they won’t have a single fuck to give.”

Sirius furrowed his brow and turned to Remus. The werewolf nodded. “It’s not a bad idea. You’re a very gifted wizard and being cooped up in this house is driving you mad. Plus you’d be able to spend time with Harry and Faith.”

The man grinned widely. “I’ll have to pack a bag.”

“Then get moving, Marmaduke. Bus leaves in ten.” Faith said, thumbing toward the stairs. He turned toward the stairs and ran up them, shifting into the form of a black German Shepherd/Labrador mix, only much larger. “God, he’s adorable.” Faith said, grinning. She was offered a loud _yip_ from the stairs as the canine disappeared around the corner.

“This is going to be wonderful,” Harry said, happily. He looked to Remus. “I wish you could come with us, too.”

“Someone has to stay here.” Lupin offered, resting a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “The Order is still meeting on occasion. Given that Padfoot can’t leave the house very often, he has the freedom to go with you more so than I.”

Harry nodded his understanding. “If everything goes well, we’ll have more help when we get back.”

A few minutes later, Sirius came thundering down the stairs with an old leather suitcase in his hand. “I’m ready.” He offered happily.

After a final goodbye to Remus, the three of the made their way out to the Mercedes. “We’ve got another passenger.” Faith said to the driver.

“I was given to understand there was to be two of you.” He said, uncertain.

“Things change, bud.” Faith said, opening the front passenger door. “You’ll live. Quentin said I should tell you that we’re making a stop.”

He looked Sirius up and down as the man got into the car then slid in behind the wheel. “Can he be trusted?”

“I’m right here, you know,” Sirius said, frowning. “Right bloody here.”

The driver looked at him for a moment, then turned to Faith. “Can he be trusted?” He asked again.

Faith chuckled and nodded. “Believe me, I’m probably the most untrusting person you are ever likely to meet.” She turned and looked Sirius in the eye. “And I’d trust him with mine and Harry’s lives.” That earned her a smile from the man. She found it funny that his hair and grown out a bit, making it look like his hair had been frosted. He had gone back to wearing his traditional black garb. She didn’t mind, honestly. He looked good in black.

Their driver gave it no more thought. Half an hour later, they arrived at the building that had served as the Watcher’s Council headquarters.

Faith had never been before and only knew the place by reputation. She stepped in behind their driver looking around. It was definitely a grand display…if one had never set foot in the Ministry of Magic. What she’d seen in that structure defied imagination. Having seen that, what she was looking at now paled in comparison. Still, she could appreciate the spectacle for what it was. It was obvious that the Council members enjoyed the finer things. At the same time, everything was very practical. She knew from Diana Dormers rather peculiar home, things served dual purpose. Suits of armor held what looked like ornamental blades that Faith knew from closer inspection were anything but. Display cases with various artifacts littered the corridors. It wasn’t lost on her how easily the glass could be broken so such things could be utilized. Her slayer sense was humming, letting her know that there was magic in the air.

Despite looking like a retirement community for rich eccentrics, she knew a fortress when she saw one. Heavy doors choked the hallways and the walls were far thicker and more robust than seemed necessary. It was designed for defense, should it come to it.

She, Harry and Sirius was led up to the top floor and into a very, very impressive office with a spectacular view of downtown London. She met the man’s eyes that were responsible for everything she had now. She swallowed and stepped up to the desk. “I’m um, I’m Faith. Your slayer.” She had talked a big game over the phone, but she was in his world now.

Quentin looked at her, to Harry and finally to Sirius. He rose to his feet, setting his pen down. He reached across the desk and offered his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” He said, his voice tight and commanding. He then did likewise to Harry. “Mr. Potter. I’ve heard much about you. I want to thank you for being such a wonderful influence on Faith.”

Harry took his hand. “Thank you, sir. Faith is an extraordinary girl.”

Quentin then looked to Sirius Black. “There are a lot of people looking for you, Mr. Black.”

“For a crime I never…”

“Yes, I know,” Quentin said, offering a soft smile. “We know all about Peter Pettigrew and his plot to discredit you. Have no fear, your secret is safe with us. If I might ask, what is your connection to all of this? Details are rather sketchy on the ground.” He motioned to the two chairs in front of the desk and retook his seat. Harry settled down into one of the chairs. Faith dropped onto his lap. The boy wrapped his arms around her waist. Sirius, despite his desire to wander about the room, looking and fiddling with everything, occupied the second chair. Quentin noted the rather tender way Faith relaxed into Harry’s arms and fought a smirk.

“I’m Harry’s Godfather. James and I were very close all through our younger years. After their deaths, I took it upon myself to hunt Pettigrew down and end him for his betrayal. The rest you know. I escaped from Azkaban and nearly had my revenge.”

“We figured with what we might be dealing with, some extra firepower might not be a bad idea.” Faith said to him. “Sirius here is a serious wizard.” Quentin raised an eyebrow, Harry snorted, but Sirius groaned as he turned to look at her. “Oh, dammit.” She said, finally realizing what she’d said. “Sorry. That actually wasn’t intentional.”

“I understand what you’re trying to say,” Quentin said to her.

“So let’s get down to the nitty-gritty. I know you want me to help B and friends out while we’re in the states. I’m willing to, no problem. But I thought she wrote you guys off.” Faith said.

“She did,” Quentin admitted though it sounded difficult for him to do. “We’d like you to-,”

Faith cut him off. “You want me to see about getting her back into the fold.”

“If you can.” He said to her. “Otherwise, I’ll go and make my request in person.”

Faith thought about it. “It’ll take some doing, but I think I can bring her around. But you want her back, you’re gonna have to reinstate Giles. She’s gonna insist on that. She won’t take any other Watcher. She all but ignored Wesley when he was there.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of that,” Quentin said, bitterly.

“Come on, man. The guy was a serious dweeb. He screamed like a girl every time he saw a vampire. Is was kind of pathetic, actually.”

“We are well aware of Mr. Wyndham Pryce’s shortcomings. It was the main reason he was let go.”

Faith got back on topic. “Given that he’s been serving as her Watcher without the paycheck…” She stopped a moment.

Quentin took advantage of the pause. “We’ll retroactively reinstate him.”

“That kinda leads me to ask something.” Faith said.

“And that would be?” He returned.

“Why aren’t I getting paid for being a slayer?” She asked him. “I mean, it’s a hard ass job. You can’t deny that.”

“You are absolutely right.” He said, his tone softening immediately. “The simple matter is, you aren’t getting paid because…we simply never thought to do so.” He rubbed his head in his hands. “For countless millennia the slayer has simply gone where she’s needed, doing as she’d needed to do. Her Watcher was offered a salary for his work and a modest expense account to outfit his slayer as he saw fit. Everything for the slayer was provided by the Watcher. It’s really only in more recent times that the slayers have been living independently of their Watchers.”

“This isn’t the middle ages, Q.” Faith said.

“And you are absolutely right.” He said, sheepishly. “I now find myself a bit…ashamed that I never thought of it.”

“Am I the first to bring it up?” Faith asked him.

“Sadly,” Quentin said to her. “I suppose it makes sense, as I think about it. You’ve been without a Watcher for so long, it just never occurred to us.”

Faith wasn’t sure whether to be angered by the statement or not. “Well, I’m asking.”

“As is your right,” Quentin said. “How does five thousand dollars a month sound? Will that be sufficient? Paid retroactively, of course from the month you were called. We’re going to withhold your wage while you were…not at your best.”

Faith nodded. When she was working the Mayor, she really didn’t do much patrolling or slaying. It would stand to reason that she wouldn’t be getting paid for it. “All told, that’s…what? Fourteen months, then?”

“That sounds accurate,” Quentin said to her.

“That’s seventy grand.” She confirmed. He gave her a nod. He reached into his desk and pulled a large folder out, offering it to Faith. “What’s this?” She asked him.

“It’s the information we have. You need to get that to Rupert. He’ll know what to do with it. And let Miss Summers know that we’ll do for her as we have done for you. She’ll be receiving one hundred and twenty-four months of back salary as well, to be deposited immediately. Should she agree, current funds will be posted on the first business day of each month.”

“Six hundred and twenty thousand dollars,” Harry said. “That’s a lot of money.”

“B’s earned it, believe me.” Faith said. “I’ll get her on board. That’s a promise.”

“I know you’ll do your best,” Quentin said to her. He reached over and tapped the button on the phone. “Samantha? Let Phillip know that we’re going to need another suit taken down to the car.”

“Suit?” Faith asked.

“You’ll see.” Quentin offered. He rose to his feet holding out his hand again. “Thank you for what you are doing, Faith. I want you to know that I am proud of you.”

“No problem.” She said taking it. “Thanks for giving me a second chance.”

“Harry. It was a pleasure. Take care of our slayer.”

“I will.” He said, nodding.

“Sirius. Thank you for agreeing to help.”

“It’s my pleasure, Quentin.” He said with a smile.

“Alright, boys. Let’s rock like we gotta purpose. L.A. ain’t gonna save itself.” She gave Quentin one last nod and exited with Harry and Sirius in tow.

He dropped back into the seat and lifted his phone. He dialed a number and sat back.

“It’s two o’clock in the damn morning.” A somewhat gruff voice answered.

“Dylan. It’s Quentin Travers of the Watcher’s Council.”

“Okay, Quentin. It’s two o’clock in the damn morning.” He repeated.

“I realize that, Mr. Dog. But this is important. I need you to get in touch with Elisa and have her either contact me or come and see me. However she prefers.”

Dylan sat up in his bed. “What’s going on? I haven’t heard anything.”

“I need to ask her a favor. She’s a very hard woman to find.” Quentin said.

“Well, yeah, given that she’s, you know, dead.”

“That’s why I need to speak with her,” Quentin said. “Can you do it?”

“Yeah, I can. I’ll track her down and have her get in touch.” He said, ending the call.

Quentin put the phone down and sighed heavily.


	25. Chapter 25

“I’m not sure about this, Faith,” Harry said from the compartment at the back of the plane.

“Just get out here.” She said, chuckling.

Harry sighed and stepped out of the bathroom. He was clad in a pair of blue jeans that hugged his legs, a black _Judas Priest – British Steel_ t-shirt, a pair of nice Doc Marten boots and a black leather motorcycle jacket. “So?” He asked her.

“You look _good_.” She said, happily. She turned to Sirius. “Your turn, fuzzy.”

He gathered his attire and made his way, nudging past Harry. “You do look rather dapper.” He said, patting the boy on the shoulder.

Harry took his seat beside Faith and waited with her. A few minutes later, Sirius exited. He no longer had the blonde hair he’d had during the summer, thanks to Faith’s efforts, but he did look worlds different. He had trimmed his beard and mustache into a nice goatee. His hair was neatly kempt and he looked very presentable. His attire was a simple pair of black cargo pants, a black button-down short sleeve shirt, and a thigh length leather jacket. “Nice.” Harry said, giving him a thumbs up.

“Now you both look like you could blend in.” Faith said. “Not a lot of wizards in Los Angeles.” She furrowed her brow. “At least…I don’t _think_ there are.”

“I am still a wanted man.” Sirius said. “I don’t want to be…”

“That reminds me.” Faith said, pulling a billfold out of her pocket. “The pilot handed me this before we took off. Q doesn’t think the American government is looking for you, but it’s best not to take any chances.” She offered it to him.

He took it and looked at its contents as he took his place across from her. “What is this?”

“Photo ID, Social Security Card, a couple of photos of Harry when he was a baby, that kind of shit. Just to make you look legit.”

“Patrick Warburton?” Sirius asked. “And I live here in California.”

“Malibu.” Faith said. “The Watcher’s Council threw you together a background. If the cops stop you, everything should check out.”

He smiled and nodded. “Good show. I was a tad worried, to be honest.”

“Just remember your name when and if you get stopped. Don’t see it happening, but this way you don’t have to hide your accent or anything like that.”

“Nice to know. I know my American is dreadful.” He admitted.

The three of them settled in and waited. It was all they could do. Hours rolled by and finally, Faith looked out the window as the plane came into LAX. She could feel a ball of lead drop into the pit of her stomach. It seemed like a lifetime since she was in California. So much in her life had changed since her reign of terror. She felt a squeeze of her hand and turned her eyes to Harry. He stared at her with a loving and supportive smile. The boy’s expression went a long way to making him feel a lot better. “It’ll be alright.” He said to her. The words contained more than just comfort. They contained a promise. She knew, come what may, the boy would be beside her.

Sirius Black, Harry’s loving godfather stared out the window in wide-eyed amazement. The city veritably glistened below them. “I’ve never seen the like.” He said, whimsical.

“Yeah, LA is a pretty happenin’ place.” Faith said, nodding. “Lotta things can be found here. Just gotta know where to look.”

“Any idea what our first move is?” The elder wizard asked.

“We’ll play it by ear.” Faith said, shrugging. “Probably see about getting some wheels.” She added, off hand. The plane touched down and taxied to a stop in a more private section of the tarmac. “Here we are, gentlemen.” She rose to her feet and made her way to the door.

The trio deplaned and gathered their bags. “I guess we…” Faith began but stopped when she heard the telltale rumble of an American big block. She squinted her eyes and watched as a glistening black car accelerated toward them. After a few seconds, it slowed to a stop.

“What is that?” Sirius asked, looking the car over.

Faith, for her part, was stunned. Being a bit of a petrolhead, she knew full well what she was looking at. The black paint sparkled in the lights of the airport. The gold pinstripes were unmistakable. As was the large gold firebird on the hood, surrounding the shaker.

“It’s very striking,” Harry said, grinning.

“That my dear boys is a 1977 Pontiac Trans Am, Bandit Special.” Faith said, moving toward the car.

The driver of the car stepped out and moved around to her. “Faith Lehane, I presume?” He asked. She gave him a nod. He offered her the keys. “Then I believe this is yours.”

Faith’s eyes dilated. “What? What do you mean, this is mine?”

“Compliments of Quentin Travers. He wanted me to deliver it to you upon your arrival. You’re going to need transport and he understands your fondness for ‘Classic Detroit Iron’ as he so eloquently put it.” He took her hand and set the keys into it. “He said to consider it a sort of homecoming gift. And he said not to worry about getting it home. He would make arrangements.”

“Holy shit.” Faith said, looking at the keys, then the car and then the driver. He stepped past her and made his way to the plane.

“Holy shit, indeed.” He offered. “Be careful. It goes like the clappers.”

“So…this is our ride,” Sirius said, moving closer to the car. “Very nice.”

Faith opened the boot and noticed that the interior was meticulous. They dropped their bags in and she closed the lid. She stepped around to the front of the car and popped the hood. “Holy mother of _god_.” She said, shaking her head. “This is _so_ not stock. Explains the _LS9_ on the shaker.”

“What does…” Harry read the text on the top of the engine. “ _Lingenfelter_ mean?”

“It means seven hundred and fifty horses of pure nasty at the rear wheel is what it means.” Faith said, grinning. “I’m gonna be able to hold tight with Lambos and Ferraris in this bitch.” She was suddenly giddy. “I gotta remember to send that man a fruit basket.” She dropped the hood and went around, unlocking the doors. She then opened the car and lifted the t-top off, setting it in the trunk. “Time to roll.” She said, settling into the driver’s seat. She could see the dashboard still had the classic look to it, with the exception of the competition tachometer on the dashboard. It also sported a newer _Boze_ stereo system. “Man. Whoever built this bad boy went all out.”

Sirius moved into the backseat and looked around. “It’s more spacious than I would have expected back here.” He said, nodding his approval.

Faith turned the key and fired the rig up. The massive 376 cubic inch V-8 rumbled to life. “If god made anything that sounded better than that, he’d have kept it for himself.” She said, smiling ear to ear.

“I didn’t know better, I’d say you love this car more than me,” Harry said, giving her a mock pout.

Faith looked at him and revved the engine, causing it to scream into the night. “Look me in the eye and tell me that doesn’t sound sexy as hell.”

“It does sound rather aggressive.” Harry said.

“I like it,” Sirius said. “Black approved.” He gave her a thumbs up.

“Right?” She returned, nodding. She looked at Harry. “Don’t worry, baby. I love you more than a car.” She turned back to the road and shifted gears, taking off in a cacophony of screeching tires and a cloud of smoke. “Just.” She added, chuckling.

“I can live with that.” The boy said as he and Sirius were both slammed back in their seats.

Faith sped across the tarmac along the utility road, quickly weaving around vehicles. She shot out onto the street, gripping the wheel tightly, sending the car into a slide. She tapped the accelerator and shifted down a gear. The car righted itself quickly. She again pushed the shifter forward. The wind whipped their hair as she raced through the Los Angeles streets. “God, this thing is awesome.” She said, shaking her head.

In a matter of minutes, she saw the Hyperion Hotel ahead. She slowed to a stop in front of the building. She was surprised to see Cordelia, Wesley and a tall well built man with black skin and a bald head. Cordy had a box sitting on the ground in front of her, while Wesley had one in his hands. The three of them turned to regard her as she pulled up.

She climbed out of the car with Harry and Sirius in tow. “You cut your hair, Cor. Lookin’ good.” Faith admitted. She looked at Wesley. “Looks like you lost a bit of the nerd. Looks good on you.” She then turned to the third guy. “Got no clue who you are.” She offered her hand. “Faith, the vampire slayer.”

He took her hand and smiled. “Yeah, you were the crazy one.”

“Certifiable.” Faith said. “But that’s old news. I’m pullin’ for the good guys now.”

“Good deal.” He said. “Charles Gunn.”

“Love the name.” She said, nodding. “This is my boyfriend Harry and his uncle Sirius.”

“Wait,” Cordy said, waving her hands about. “ _You_ , superslut supreme…have a _boyfriend_?”

Harry immediately frowned at the statement, but Faith took it in stride. “Yep.” She said, draping her arm around Harry’s shoulders. “And I couldn’t be happier.”

“Never saw that coming.” The ex-cheerleader said, shaking her head.

“Isn’t he a little young for you, Faith?” Wesley asked, looking Harry over.

Faith looked at Wesley, to Cordelia and back at Wesley with her eyebrow raised. “Really?” She gave a bit of a pause. “You really goin’ there? If not for the fact that you were so dorky you made Xander look like Ice Man from Top Gun, you two would have been doin’ the ditty in the stacks of the library.”

“Ugh,” Cordy said, shuddering. “Don’t remind me.” Wesley had the good nature to look sheepish and blunt.

Sirius leaned over to Harry. “Have you heard any of this?” The boy just shook his head. But the smile on his face said that he was enjoying the exchange. “Well, thank god you’re here,” Cordy said.

“What happened?” Faith asked.

“Everything went rather quickly to pot is what happened,” Wesley said. “Before we could discuss your coming and seeking our help, Angel…”

“He locked a couple dozen lawyers in a room with Darla and Drusilla and let ‘em go nuts.” Gunn said.

Faith sighed and shook her head. “Not that I don’t see the merit in that…”

“You and the rest of the population,” Gunn added.

“The lawyers were part of Wolfram and Hart. They’re a demon law firm. Their clients are mostly supernatural and mostly evil.” Wesley explained. “He let human beings die. We admonished him for it.”

“Then forgive me for saying this, but if he allowed vampires to feast upon those that protect evil people and advocate evil goings-on, why would you be cross about that?” Sirius asked. “Using one evil to vanquish another is a sound strategy. Battlefield commanders have been employing similar tactics for millennia.”

“Man’s got a point.” Faith said. “I mean, I ain’t down for wiping out innocent people, but from what you all are telling me, these jokers were anything but.”

“That isn’t the point,” Wesley said. “You know that humans aren’t the slayer’s purview.”

“Angel isn’t a slayer.” Faith said, stepping toward him. “And sometimes, you just gotta let nature take its course.”

“I still wanna slap some sense into him,” Cordy said. She then turned to Faith. “Maybe you should.”

She rubbed her face in her hands. “God, I don’t fuckin’ need this right now.” She groaned audibly. Harry reached out and ran a comforting hand over her back. She smiled at him in thanks. “Alright. You all sit tight.” She pulled her wallet out and offered up some cash. “Here. Go across the street and have coffee or something. I’ll go talk to him and see what’s going on.” She turned and pulled Harry in, kissing him. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I should come with you.” He said to her. “In case you need me.”

“No.” Faith said. “I gotta-,” She was quieted with a finger to her lips.

 “It wasn’t a suggestion, Faith. I’m coming with you. He’s a vampire. If he goes dark on you, I’m going to be there to help.”

She sighed and gently pulled his hand away. “Alright. But let me do the talking.” She looked to Sirius. “Wait here. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

“Come with us,” Wesley said, motioning to the coffee shop. “It would be nice to talk to a proper British gentleman for a change.”

“Here.” Faith said, opening the trunk of the car. “You guys can put your stuff in here for the time being.” She reached into her duffel and pulled out a pair of gloves and stuffed them into her back pocket.

Cordy and Wesley both deposited their boxes. “Thanks for coming, Faith. If anyone can get through to him, it’s you.”

“I’m gonna try, Cor.” Faith said. “For him, I’ve gotta.”

“Good luck, Faith,” Wesley said to her. He rested a hand on her shoulder. “It _is_ good to see you back on the right side.”

She looked him in the eyes. “Yeah.” She said, before turning and heading into the hotel, Harry in tow. “No matter what, I want you to keep quiet and stand back. No matter how violent it seems to get, you got me?”

“I’m not going to let him hurt you, Faith,” Harry said, his tone hard.

She stopped and turned to look at him. “Look. Don’t worry. I can take whatever he can dish out. Right now, it sounds like he’s in a really dark place and just needs someone to vent on. He needs to understand that he has help he can trust.”

“What if he tries to kill you?” Harry asked her. “What am I supposed-?”

“He won’t.” She interrupted him. “He might try and beat me down, but he won’t kill me. Not Angel. Right now, he’s trying for dark and scary. But deep down, he ain’t got it in him. Not anymore.”

“You’re sure?” Harry asked. “You’re willing to bet your life on that?”

Faith was fairly certain that Angel wouldn’t kill her, no matter how angry he got, no matter how _Dark Avenger_ he wanted to get. But _fairly certain_ was the operative phrase. Having a backup plan wasn’t necessarily a bad idea. “If he goes for the kill, you fry his ass.”

Harry gave her a nod. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Let him vent however he has to. If he needs to try and smack me around, let him. Just keep an eye if things get too bad. Deal?” She asked him.

“Deal,” Harry said, nodding.

“Let’s do this.” Faith said, turning and heading for the door. She pushed it open and stepped inside.

Angel heard the door open and growled low in his throat. He rose from his desk and made his way out into the lobby. “I told you three…” He stopped when he saw Faith standing at the top of the stairs with a young teenage boy he’d never seen before a step behind to her right.

She had her arms crossed as she stared down at him. “Been a long time, Angel.”

“Faith.” He said, leaning against the counter, crossing his own arms over his broad chest. His face was an unreadable mask. “What are you doing here?”

She casually strolled down the stairs. “Angel Investigations.” She said, looking around the building. Her eyes then fell back to him. “You help the helpless, right?”

“You helpless now, Faith?” He asked her. His eyes flicked to Harry. The boy stood, like Faith, with his arms crossed. He seemed to be waiting. For what, Angel couldn’t guess. He could sense there was something… _off_ about him. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. He looked back to Faith.

“Me?” Faith asked. She then shook her head. “No. I’m about as far from helpless as you can get. Doesn’t mean I don’t need help.”

“I’m out of the Avenging Angel business.”

“So I’ve heard.” Faith said as she began pacing back and forth in front of him. “Can’t help but wonder why.” She cast a look at him. “What changed?”

“Everything.” He offered. “Darla and Drusilla are back.”

Faith stopped pacing and leaned her head back. “Yeah. I know.” She said, turning to regard him. “Cordy told me.” She shrugged. “So what? Smoke ‘em both and be done with it.”

“It isn’t that simple.” He offered.

“Don’t see how it’s complicated.” Faith said, turning to look at him full on. “They’re both vampires, aren’t they? Last I checked stake to the heart and a sharp blade through the neck still, kills ‘em.”

He stared at her for several seconds. Then he smiled, but there was nothing happy about it. “That was always your biggest failing, Faith. You always thought you knew better than everyone else.”

“When it comes to vampires?” Faith returned his grin. Hers was equally as sinister. “I _do_ know better than everyone else.” She stepped closer to him. “You need to pull your head out of your ass, Angel. You _need_ Cordy and Wes. You can stand there all dark and broody until the cows come home, but I know you better than you think.”

“Do you?” He asked her.

“Oh, yeah.” She said, nodding. “You think you have to try and get into Darla and Drusilla’s heads. You think you have to get back to being all hard and badass to take them down. That you gotta cut ties with all the people you care about and all that lone wolf bullshit.”

“I’m not ready, yet. Too many years spent sleeping in soft beds. Living in a world where I don’t belong.” He sighed and shook his head. “I can’t fight them. Not yet.” He looked her in the eyes. “But soon.”

“Why?” She asked him. “Why not just go out, find the pair of them and put a stake through their hearts?”

He pushed away from the counter and shoved past her. “Go home, Faith.” He said to her. “This isn’t your fight.”

“And _that_ is _your_ biggest failing.” She said, watching him walk away.

He went into his office and slammed the door. She moved over and heard it lock. She looked to Harry. “No matter what, you stay up there, you got it?” Her words left no room for discussion. He gave her subtle nod. She turned and put her boot to the door. It swung open, slamming into the wall. “I wasn’t finished.” She said to him.

Angel whirled on her, game face firmly in place. “Go. Home.” He snarled, moving toward her, threateningly. “I won’t tell you again.”

She smirked at him. “I’ve fought and killed vampires older, stronger, faster and tougher than you, Angel. Don’t think for a second the game face intimidates me.”

He lashed out with a hard jab to her face. Faith caught his fist, mid-strike. “We seriously gonna do this?” She asked him. The answer came in the form of a hard boot that sent her flying back from the room to crash into the counter. She caught herself on the wood and looked at him, smirk still upon her lips. “I guess so.”

“Don’t make me hurt you, Faith.” He said, clenching his fists. “I’m not in the mood for your games. Get the hell out of here go crawl back under whatever rock you were hiding under.”

She could see the conflict in his eyes. She knew that fight well. The need to take on the world alone. The difference between them was that she didn’t have a choice. She honestly believed that she couldn’t trust anyone. Every time she did, she was let down and let down _hard_. But Angel _did_ have a choice. He had people that cared about him, were willing to fight for him and beside him. She just needed him to understand that. “Come on, Angel. You wanna play it hard?” She pulled her jacket off and tossed it across the room to Harry. She reached into her back pocket and pulled a pair of black leather gloves, tugging them on. “Let’s play it hard, tough guy.”

Angel stalked toward her, snarling. “Fine.” He said to her. “I’ll throw you out.”

Harry wanted nothing more than to pull his wand and use his magic. But he had to trust Faith. It took all of his control to stay where he was.

Faith jumped, backflipping over the counter to land on the floor of the main lobby. “Step out onto the dance floor, big guy. Show me your moves.”

Angel cleared the desk in a hop. His foot shot out, looking to take Faith across the face. She ducked low, driving a sharp jab into the bottom of his thigh. Angel felt his leg immediately begin cramping up. Faith, shot back up as he was still spinning. She punched him hard in the kidney, causing him to stagger forward, awkwardly. “Been training. Can you tell?” She asked him.

He growled and issued a rapid backhand that cracked her across the jaw. She spun with the momentum and came around with a reverse kick that caught him in the ribs. He was thrown to the side, impacting the counter with enough force to crack the wood.

“Come on, Angel. Is that all you got?” She asked him.

“Why are you doing this, Faith?” He asked, leaning against the wood, fighting the tenseness in his leg.

“Because you need help, Angel.” She said to him. “Because two years ago, you had me chained up in your mansion and laid it all out to me.” She softened her expression. “You weren’t willing to give up on me.”

“I didn’t help you, Faith.”

“But you tried.” She said to him. She took a chance and closed with him. “You looked me in the eye and told me that I had a choice.” She stopped in front of him. “That I tasted something few ever do. To kill without remorse was to feel like a god.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. It is. But you said all you could feel was a cramp in your wrists.”

“Well, in my defense, those shackles sucked ass.” She said. “But you told me that I _wasn’t_ a god. That I wasn’t much more than a child. That going down that path would ruin me, that I couldn’t imagine the price of true evil.” She sighed, crossed her arms and lowered her eyes. “You were right.  Back there and back then…I didn’t understand what it would cost me.”

“What I did…”

“Is exactly what you should have done.” Faith said, looking at him. “Cordy and Wes, Buffy and Giles…they all see this shit as black and white. Monster bad, human good.” She shook her head. “It ain’t like that at all, is it?” She began pacing again. “What I did was evil. All of it. I know that. I killed a man and had a hell of an assist on another. I realize that. I paid the price and had to come to terms with it.” She looked at him. “But you turning Darla and Drusilla on the Wolfram and Hart stooges? Far as I’m concerned, that just sound strategy.”

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” Harry offered from the stairs.

Faith looked at him and nodded. Angel, having dropped his game face, regarded the boy. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“That’s Harry.” Faith said. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“You have a boyfriend?” Angel asked her. “Isn’t he a little, make that _a lot_ young for you?”

“Dude, I’m only eighteen. He’s gonna be sixteen in a few months. Besides of _all_ the people in the world to criticize me on the age of my boyfriend _you_ have _no_ room to talk. You’re like, two hundred and fifty and B was Harry’s age when you started pining over her so don’t give me that shit.”

“I’m a vampire, Faith. I stopped getting older.”

“A vampire that was turned at like, thirty.” She shook her head. “And the two of you got horizontal when she turned seventeen, studly. Pot, kettle, _so_ many shades of black.”

“You know what?” Angel said, defensively. He then softened his expression. “Yeah, okay. Fair enough.”

“Besides that, he’s a wizard.” Faith offered, holding her hand out to him. Harry stepped down and took it. “We’ve been together since the beginning of August.”

“You know magic?” Angel asked him.

Harry nodded. “I do indeed.” He looked to Faith. “Can I show him?”

“Sure.” Faith said. “But nothing too nasty.”

“Of course not,” Harry said, stepping back. He looked at the door of the office and nodded. “Just a moment.” He said, moving around the desk. He pulled his wand out and gave a flick. “ _Reparo_!” The door immediately righted itself and reformed, shutting gently.

“That’s amazing,” Angel said, stepping over to look at it. “What other spells can you do?”

“ _Levicorpus_!” He said, pointing his wand at Angel. He silently thanked Sirius for teaching him such a spell while they were in transit from Britain. Angel, for his part, was shocked when he felt a tugging sensation upon his right ankle. He was then quickly lifted in the air by his leg to hang upside down.

“That’s um…” He looked at the floor. “That’s impressive. Can you, you know, put me down now?” Harry dismissed the spell and the vampire toppled onto his head on the wood unceremoniously. “Uhn!” He grunted as he landed. Faith helped him to his feet. “Thanks, I guess.” He said, rubbing his head.

“You need help, Angel.” Faith said to him. “I understand you wanting to handle the Double D sisters on your own, but you don’t have to. They’ve got your number and know you. They can get into your head and take you off your game. You don’t want Cordy, Wesley, and Gunn in the crossfire. I get that. But don’t just throw them away like you did. That’s bullshit and you know it.”

He turned to regard her. “I don’t want them around while I deal with this.”

“That’s fine.” Faith said. “But at least tell them why.”

“They know why.” He said. “I don’t want-,”

“You don’t want them trying to lecture you about shit while you gotta do the dirty work.” Faith said. “That’s cool. I can relate. I wouldn’t wanna hear it either.” She turned to Harry. “Go get ‘em, baby.”

“I really don’t think-,” Angel began.

“Don’t worry. They’ll understand. And I can make sure to keep them safe. I’m sending them to England.” Faith said. “Me, Harry and Sirius are gonna help you out with Darla and Dru. Cordy and Wes are gonna head to the motherland. We’ll catch up when we’re done.”

“Was anyone gonna tell me this?” He asked.

“They were supposed to, but then you went all pseudo-Angelus on them.” Faith offered.

“I’m never gonna hear the end of this.” He said, falling to the sofa. “Especially from Cordelia.”

“You made the bed. Now you gotta lay in it.” Faith said, crossing her arms and grinning widely.

He looked at her with a frown. “You doing a horrible job hiding the fact that you’re gonna enjoy this.”

Faith chuckled. “I’m not trying to hide it at all.”

“Remind me why I tried saving you again?” He asked.

“My winning personality?” Faith asked.

“Yeah.” He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “That must have been it.” He was genuinely not looking forward to the conversation he was about to have. He saw Harry coming back into the building with Wesley, Gunn, a tall man with dark hair and a very, _very_ pissed off Cordelia in tow. “Oh, boy.” He said, meeting her eyes. Faith’s snort didn’t help one bit.

           


	26. Chapter 26

Cordelia stood with her arms crossed, staring down at him. Angel sat on the round sofa in the center of the lobby, looking adequately chastised. Thus far, Cordy hadn’t said a word to him. Faith, Sirius, and Harry all leaned against the counter watching the pair. Wesley and Gunn both rested on the stairs, enjoying Angel’s misery.

For almost a minute straight, none of them had said a thing. Finally, Cordelia spoke. “Well?” She snapped at the vampire. “Are you gonna just sit there, or are you gonna apologize?”

“Sorry.” He said, sheepishly.

“That’s it? You throw us out because you wanted to go all Dark Avenger and now all you have to say is ‘sorry’?”

Angel lifted his eyes to her. “What do you want me to say?”

“How about _I’m sorry_?” She shouted at him.

“He just said that, Cor.” Faith offered.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Cordy said to the slayer, sharply. Faith lifted her hands and kept quiet.

“I just said that Cordelia,” Angel said to her.

“You shut up. I don’t wanna hear it.” Cordy snarled at the vampire.

Sirius leaned over to Harry. “He already apologized, but she wants him to apologize again?”

The boy shook his head. “More to the point, how can he if she doesn’t want him to talk?”

“Americans,” Sirius said, dumbfounded.

“No, that’s just Cordelia for you.” Faith said to the pair. “You’ll get used to it.” She sighed heavily. “Or have a really funny aneurysm.”

“Cordelia, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated the three of you the way I did. It was wrong. I’m just…” Angel buried his face in his hands. “Darla and Drusilla are just…” He wasn’t sure what to say.

“They’re bad news. I get it. They’re vampires that are like, totes evil. But they’re not end of the world, apocalypse bad. We’ve dealt with worse. The end of the day, they’re _just_ vampires. Faith said it. Open heart, insert stake and _poof!_ Powdered vampire. Vacuum and repeat.” She shook her head. “It’s nothing new for us.”

“They’re different,” Angel said to the girl. “They know us. They know _me_.”

Faith saw her cue. “Alright, let’s put this shit behind us.” She looked at Angel. “Locking the doors and letting Dar and Dru take out the Wolfram and Hart top brass? Good lookin’ out. That was a good play. Puts them off balance and they’ve got right their ship again. Gives you some breathing room from them. So good call on that.” Wesley and Gunn both looked at her. “Don’t give me that. If W and H are as bad as you all say they are, there isn’t an innocent soul in the bunch. They’re just demons in human suits, same as vampires. What they do is directly resulting in people’s deaths. Don’t care how you wanna spin it.” She turned back to Angel. “But what you _should_ have done is lock the door, let the sisters get their meal on, then went in with a stake and cleaned house. Take the pair of them out while you had them both dead to rights. That’s what you needed to do. Letting them go was bonehead stupid. It proves that you aren’t thinking clearly. And if you aren’t clear headed, you’re no good to me. Which is why you all are taking off.” She pushed away from the counter. “Harry, Sirius and I are handling the Double D sisters.”

“What do you mean?” Gunn asked, looking at the slayer.

Faith turned to him. “Actually, I hadn’t really calculated you in. Cordy kinda forgot to mention you.”

Gunn looked at Cordelia. “What’s she talking about?”

Cordy sighed. “This just got really complicated.” The ex-cheerleader said, falling to the sofa beside Angel.

“Cordy is heading to England to take a teaching position at the school Harry goes to.” Faith said. “She’s gonna be teaching a class called Divinations. She’s gonna be teaching kids how to tell the future, read dreams and tea leaves, that kind of shit.”

Gunn regarded her with a raised eyebrow. “Do you um, do you actually know how to do any of that?” He asked her.

Cordy nodded. “Ever since Doyle left me with these visions, I’ve been learning everything I can about fortune telling and all of that. I figured if I knew more about them, I could figure out a way to keep them from splitting my skull open from the inside out.”

“And would you be able to pass that knowledge on to students?” Wesley asked her.

“I think so,” Cordy said.

“Well, you’ll be a damn sight more useful than our last Divinations Professor. A lot easier on the eyes if anything else.” Harry said.

Cordy looked at him with a raised eyebrow and to Faith. The slayer just chuckled. “Tch,” Cordy said, shaking her head.

“What of me?” Wesley asked. “You said all of us are going to England. What role will I have to play?”

“Harry, babe? Why don’t you fill them in on what you know of Moldy-shorts?” Faith said, stepping back.

“His name is Voldemort. He’s a Dark Wizard.” Harry began.

“I’ve heard of him,” Wesley admitted. Angel nodded, indicating he was familiar with the name as well.

“I’ll tell you what I know of him,” Harry said. He went on to detail his dealings with him in the past, including how he managed to defeat him and the hell he’d gone through at the man’s hands. It was a long story and they kept their questions to a minimum until he finished.

Faith then took up where Harry left off. “Right now, I’m teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. The Watcher’s Council is backing up my appointment at the moment. But they know that Voldemort needs to be found and dealt with. That’s where the three of you come in.” She pointed to Angel. “You used to be the terror of Europe. I’m betting you still got a few contacts that you can reach out to and help find the son of a bitch.” Angel gave a nod. “Wes here has some pretty serious gray matter and can help deal with whatever Moldy-crotch’s plans might be, once we figure out what he’s gonna do.” She looked to Gunn. “I figure you, being less the research and espionage type, can ride in and crack some skulls once things get physical.”

“Nah. You all got it. This gives me a chance to get back in with the crew. Keep the streets safe.” Gunn nodded.

Faith gave him a nod. “Fair deal. Won’t be long.”

“You do what you gotta do.” He said, offering his fist. “Peace out.” She bumped it and watched him take his leave. 

“So the four of you can head back to England and get together with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix and get the ball rolling on that front. Meanwhile, we’ll handle Darla and Drusilla.” Faith explained.

Angel rose to his feet. “What about Los Angeles? With us gone, there’s not a whole lot protecting the people of this town.”

“Quentin said he was getting in touch with someone that would be able to hold the fort until you got back.” Faith said to him. “Some chick named Elisa. No idea who she is, but Q had faith in her.”

Wesley furrowed his brow. “Elisa… _Cameron_?”

Faith nodded. “I think that was her last name, yeah. You know her?”

“I know _of_ her,” Wesley said. “If memory serves, she’s dead.”

Faith pointed to Angel. “Doesn’t necessarily carry the weight it used to, there bud.”

Cordy chuckled. “She’s gotta point.”

Wesley shook his head. “If Quentin Travers believes she can help, I’ll leave it with him.”

“There’s a private jet sitting at LAX with your names on it. Get packed for an English winter.” Faith said to them.

“I’m not letting you drive my Plymouth,” Angel said to her.

Faith raised an eyebrow. “Dude? I have a ’77 Trans Am with a Lingenfelter LS9 under the hood sitting right out front. Seven hundred plus ponies. I don’t _need_ your Plymouth.”

“Really?” Angel asked, moving to the doors. He looked out and saw the black and gold Bandit Special. “Nice.” He looked at her. “T-top?”

“Oh yeah. She’s fast as hell, too.” Faith said. “Quentin gave her to me.”

“Good choice. It’s definitely you.” Angel said, nodding. He turned to her, Harry and Sirius. “You three need to be careful. Darla and Drusilla aren’t to be underestimated. Darla is as vicious and brutal as they come. She’s every bit as evil as Angelus was.”

Sirius rolled his head about on his shoulders. “Worry not. They aren’t the first dark creatures I’ve dealt with. And I assure you, they won’t be the last.”

Angel looked into the man’s eyes. He took a chance and, using his vampiric speed, was in the wizard’s face in a heartbeat. “And just like that, you’re dead.” He said to the man. He was a little unnerved when Sirius simply smiled at him. He then felt the end of the man’s wand against the soft flesh beneath his jaw.

“Am I?” He asked. “You sure you don’t have that the other way around, my good man?”

Angel backed away, giving him a nod. He was sufficiently impressed. “You’re quicker than I thought you’d be.”

The man shrugged. “When battling individuals that have the ability to slay you with a gesture, you learn to be.”

“We should prepare for our trip,” Wesley said to the group. “It would seem we have a plane to catch.”

Soon, they all had their bags packed. Faith had called a cab company and arranged for a minivan to pick them up. She laid out the plan to Wesley. “Your first stop is gonna be the Watcher’s Council. Quentin is going to have a man there by the name of Remus Lupin. He’s gonna give you the skinny on what’s going down and arrange everything from there. Given that you're a basic human type, things are gonna be a little weird at first, but just go with it, alright?”

Angel pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “These are the demon hotspots in town. If you ask around, I’m sure someone will be able to find Darla and Drusilla.”

Faith looked it over and nodded. “Good lookin’ out.” She stuffed it into her own pocket. She looked into his face and smiled, hugging him. “Badass bitches. I got it. I’ll be careful.”

“Drusilla might be crazy, but she’s got a lot of power. She can get into your head, literally.” He said. “Keep that in mind.”

“I will.” Faith said, nodding. “See you in a bit.”

After a few heartfelt goodbyes, with promises to meet back up once they were finished in Los Angeles, Faith, Harry and Sirius watched as the taxi took off, heading for the airport.

Sirius and Harry both turned to Faith. “What do we do, now?” Harry asked her.

“Now, we find Darla and Drusilla.” Faith said, making for the door. 

“How are we going to do that?” Sirius inquired. “This is a rather large city.”

Faith turned and grinned at him. “By finding someone who knows more than us and asking them. How else?”

Sirius turned and looked at Harry as the pair followed her to the car. Faith stopped by bank machine and pulled a few hundred dollars out before making her way to one of the locations on Angel’s list. “Where are we going first?” Sirius asked from his place in the backseat.

“It’s a bar that caters to demon types. Some vampires and monsters hang out there. I’m gonna go and start rattling cages. See if we can shake the Double D sisters loose.” Faith said as she searched the streets for the address. It didn’t take long to find. “Here we are.” She climbed out of the car and made her way inside. Sirius and Harry both followed along behind her.

The bartender looked to be a human man in his late forties. He raised an eyebrow as she approached. “You uh, you don’t look old enough to be drinkin’.”

“Depends on what I’m havin’ now don’t it?” She asked him. She pulled a hundred dollar bill from her wallet and set it on the bar top. “Gimme a Coke.” She said, pushing it over to him. He reached for it, and she quickly slapped her hand down on top of his. He noticed that he couldn’t move his at all. “Lookin’ for someone.” Faith said. “The cash is an incentive, but trust me, things can get a lot more… _unpleasant_ if the money ain’t enough to grease the wheels, you get me?” He gave her a nod. “Couple of girls. Go by the names of Darla and Drusilla. Trashy blonde and a ditzy brunette respectively. Gimme an address or a name. You got one or the other.”

Before the bartender could respond, a pair of men were at the bar, glaring at Faith. She could feel their presence as a tingle in the back of her neck. That told her immediately what they were. “What are you lookin’ for them for?” One of the pair said.

“Harry? Sirius?” Faith asked, not looking at the bruisers.

Both wizards spun quickly, their wands free. “Stupefy!” “Flipendo!”  Harry and Sirius shouted, respectively. The vampire Harry had targeted dropped to the floor, immediately unconscious. Sirius’ vampire, however, wasn’t so fortunate. He was hurled backward across the bar, slamming into a support column and through that the floor beyond. The pair stood, wands out, looking about the room, maintaining their assigned role as silent enforcers.

Faith never turned away from the bartender. “So about that address or name?”

He swallowed and nodded.

Soon the three were heading out of the bar and back to the rig. She looked down at the address that the barkeep had written on the napkin. “I love it when people are helpful.”

“Let’s just hope that address is worth the hundred dollars you paid,” Harry said to her.

Faith grinned at him as they pulled away from the bar. “Seeing you two drop those vamps was easily worth that.”

The trio spent hours moving from place to place, questioning vampires, demons and even a few stool pigeons that were reputed to know more than most. All of the while, coming up dry. Faith pulled into a Jack In the Box and ordered two of their biggest, greasiest burgers, two huge orders of curly fries and a giant coke. Harry and Sirius both suffered from horrendous decision paralysis. In the end, Faith ordered for both of them, settling on simple bacon cheeseburgers and curly fries as well. She got Sirius a large coffee and Harry a large coke, same as her.

She pulled to a stop at the waterfront to eat. Harry was thoroughly enjoying his hamburger. Sirius, however, was rather more discerning. “Is this real beef?” He asked, examining the patty.

“Well, if it isn’t, it’s beef’s stunt double.” Faith said between bites. “I tend not to think about it.” She turned around to regard him. “Just eat the damn burger. I’m not gonna listen to you pick it apart. It’s not healthy for you. Hell, it’s not even _good_ for you. But it tastes awesome, so eat it.”

He sighed and took a ginger bite. He was met with a rather good flavor, to be honest. He could tell, however, that it was an indulgence. It was greasy, but at the same time, it was certainly enjoyable. He nodded and devoured the rest of the meal. He was flabbergasted by the curly fries. They were an explosion of taste. He discarded the ranch dipping sauce and quickly demolished his large order of fries. By the time he was done, Harry was nearly finished with his and Faith had made her way through both burgers and was tipping the last of her second order of fries into her mouth. “You were right. That was rather tasty.”

“Yeah, in the states we don’t really give much thought to what’s actually _in_ what we eat. I mean, some people do, but by and large?” She shook her head. “Being a slayer, I’m kinda lucky. I can eat crap like this and not suffer from it because my metabolism moves at the speed of beer at a frat party.” She put everything into one of the bags and drove past a trash can as they left the waterfront. “Let’s head back to the hotel and get some rest. We’ll pick this up tomorrow night.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Harry said. Sirius nodded his agreement.

It didn’t take long for Faith to reach the hotel. She parked in the garage and locked her car up, heading up to the lobby. “Personally, I think these two have been ducking us.” She said as she entered.

“And why would we be doing that?” A silky voice offered from the middle of the room.

All three of them stopped. Lounging on the round sofa sat an attractive blonde woman in black leather pants and a black top. Beside her sat an equally good looking brunette in red leather pants and a dark red shirt. She also wore a red leather trenchcoat. “Darla and Drusilla, I presume?” Faith asked, sliding her jacket off and tossing it over to the counter.

“Word on the street is you’ve been looking for us,” Darla said, cocking her head and smiling. “Why would that be?”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you _really_ don’t know who I am, do you?” Faith asked, crossing her arms.

“Should I?” She asked.

“It would probably be in your best interest.” Faith offered. “Here’s a hint.” She grinned widely. “I’m not Buffy.”

Darla stared at her a moment. Finally, it dawned on her. “Faith.” She said, smiling. “You’re the _other_ slayer.”

“No, Buffy’s the _other_ slayer.” Harry piped in.

“And who are you?” Darla asked the boy.

Drusilla's eyes grew wide as she stared at Harry. “No, mummy,” She said, turning to her and putting her finger to Darla’s lips. “He must not be named.”

Harry and Sirius looked at each other, nervousness in their eyes.

“He can see us,” Drusilla said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mean as daddy.”

“What are you talking about, Dru?” Darla asked, exasperated.

“He ain’t who you should be worrying about, bitch.” Faith said as she slowly began moving down the stairs. She reached into her back pocket and pulled her gloves free. She tugged them on as she stopped a few feet from the blonde. “You and me, we got a score to settle. My boys can have your side-pussy. I want _you_.”

“I’ve killed people older, stronger and tougher than you,” Darla said, not at all impressed or intimidated.

“Well then.” Faith said, rolling her head about her shoulders. “If you’re feelin’ froggy, then hop, blondie.” She smacked her left fist in her right palm. "Show me whatcha got."

Drusilla frowned deeply. “None of them are scared.” She said, sadly.

Harry lifted an eyebrow. “Of you?” He asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Not bloody likely.” His wand was in his hand in an instant.

And the fight was on.

           


	27. Chapter 27

Faith and Darla lunged at each other, meeting head on. The little blonde vampire’s fist drew back, ready to let fly. Faith had to give the woman credit. She was quicker than the slayer thought she’d be. She leaned back, pushing Darla’s punch aside. The strike flew out wide. Faith noticed immediately that, while Darla had speed and quite a bit of skill, she severely lacked in stopping power.

Faith launched into her own attack, landing a hard right cross to the blonde’s jaw. Darla’s face was rocked to the side. She spun and fell back against the roundabout sofa. She snarled at Faith and threw herself back at the brunette, going game face.

“Well, look who’s home.” Faith said as she exploded into motion, whipping around rapidly. As Darla came in, Faith’s boot was there to greet her, slamming into the vampire’s ribs. Darla was nowhere near prepared for the level of physical strength the girl possessed. She was hurled across the room, slamming into the counter, smashing the wood to splinters.

Faith didn’t let up. She was on the vampire in a heartbeat. Darla growled, tossing the shrapnel from her. Faith’s hands gripped the flimsy black top and pulled Darla to her feet. Darla chose that moment and struck, burying her knee in Faith’s gut. The slayer grunted deeply but maintained her hold. She spun and lifted Darla from the floor to slam her back down onto the ground with enough force to crack the tile. The room shook from the impact.

Darla hissed in pain as she landed. “No matter how hard you try, you’ll never be _her_.” The blonde said, coyly. “You’ll always just be the _other_ slayer.”

Faith hauled her back to her feet, holding her aloft. “And I’m _so_ okay with that.” She turned and threw Darla over the counter, smashing the large wooden desk behind to pieces. The vampire groaned as she lay there, stunned. “B woulda killed you quick. But you ain’t that damn lucky.” She ran and leapt onto the petite demon.

Harry and Sirius trusted that Faith had Darla well in hand. Drusilla shed her long coat and immediately hissed like a snake at the pair.

“ _Stupefy_!” Harry snapped, thrusting his wand toward her. The spell went off flawlessly. Sirius let loose with his own wand as the vampire slid aside and out of the way. Spell after spell raced toward her but Drusilla moved like a dancer, dodging the spells with ease. Harry had never seen such fluid movement in his life. Only Faith had ever evaded magic with such effortlessness.

“Dark beast boy.” She said, staring at Harry intently.           

“You want a beast?” Sirius Black snarled. “I’ll show you a beast!” He took a step and leapt from the stairs.

Drusilla was caught completely by surprise as the tall man in the black jacket’s form melted into that of a massive black dog. The animal slammed into her. The pair fell to the ground, hard. Sirius snarled and clamped his jaws about the vampire’s face, tearing her pale flesh.

Drusilla screamed and fought to free herself. The dog was relentless. His claws ripped at her clothing and skin. Harry moved about, looking to get a clear shot with his wand. To no avail. The pair were moving around far too much. He had to keep his cool to wait for an opening.

“Darla! He’s a doggie!” She shouted, trying desperately to fight the massive canine off.

“She’s a little busy, bitch!” Faith shot back, hurling Darla through one of the support posts. She grinned as Darla hit the floor with a hard _smack_. “Gettin’ her ass whooped.” She stalked back in, rolling her head about on her shoulders.

Drusilla hissed at Sirius and gripped his bottom jaw, lifting his head away from her face. She then delivered a hard punch to the side of his head, before throwing him off of her. He yelped as he was struck and sent rolling across the floor, dazed.

Harry saw his opportunity and struck. “ _Confringo_!” He shouted. A gout of flame shot from his wand. Drusilla deftly rolled to the side as a large smoking hole was blasted in the floor.

“Dark boy has a lot of tricks.” She said, whimsically. Harry was shocked when the vampire was suddenly in his face. “Look at me, dearie.” She said, pointing a pair of fingers at Harry’s eyes. He could feel the mental intrusion. “Be... in my eyes. Be... in _me_.”

Harry’s arm went slack. He could feel his wand fall from his fingers and clatter to the ground. _She has such pretty eyes…_ he thought to himself.

Drusilla burrowed deep into Harry’s mind, attempting to wrest control from the boy. She saw the part of his mind that belonged to another. She glided to that part of the young wizard’s psyche, ever the curious one. She was no stranger to fragmented and tortured minds. Such was her proverbial bread and butter. And she found the torment in Harry’s head to be absolutely delicious.

Drusilla knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wasn’t exactly right in the cranium. She was just having too much fun to care.

As she dug deeper into Harry’s subconscious, she came to realize very quickly that what evil she was capable of…was as nothing compared to what awaited her as she pushed through the final barrier in the boy’s mind.

 _Who are you?_ A snarling, hissing voice asked her.

She was surrounded in darkness. A living, pulsing blackness that permeated her in all her forms. _I…_ she couldn’t respond. The malevolent force that resided in the boy’s mind was too much for her.

 _You seek what is mine!_ The black snarled. _You will not! He belongs to me!_

Drusilla, before the overwhelming shadow blasted its way through her, was given a name. She’d never heard it before, but she came to understand what of it she needed to. The presence was evil and sadism incarnate. No mind she had ever touched had been so very sinister. Fondly, did she remember the days of her family; Angelus, Darla, Spike and herself terrorizing Europe, making all tremble at their presence. It was a glorious time for them.

She was shown, in the brief moment she touched the darkness that dwelt within the boy that none of the four of them, alone or together, could hope to approach the level of absolute depravity that this being was capable of.

It was the last conscious thought she had before claws of rage, pain and unadulterated malice tore through her psyche. _Voldemort!_ She said to herself.

Outwardly, Drusilla shrieked and threw herself away from Harry, staggering back to fall to the floor.

Harry blinked his eyes, shaking his head. He looked down to see Drusilla trembling, staring at him in terror. Blood was trailing from her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

“I can’t hear the voices anymore,” Drusilla said her voice quaking. “It’s all quiet and sad.”

“ _Sectumsempra_!” Sirius shouted, swinging his wand as he would a blade.

Harry was shocked when he saw a wide slashing incision appear across Drusilla’s throat.

“ _Flipendo_!” The elder wizard snapped. The vampire’s head was sent flipping off of her shoulders. She disintegrated a heartbeat later.

Harry rubbed his scar absently, looking at Sirius. His godfather rose to his feet, unsteadily. Harry was there to meet him. The pair stared at each other a moment, before embracing tightly.

Faith drew back and drove her fist into the vampire’s face. The blow, she knew would have shattered stone.

Darla accepted it – not that she had much choice – and whipped her head back to snarl at the slayer, blood dripping from her busted lip. Faith had a strength that she’d never experienced before. When she fought with Buffy, the blonde wasn’t even close to this slayer’s level. Granted, that was years ago, but still.

In truth, Darla was no stranger to taking hits. She had always been slighter than most vampires around her. Even before she was turned by the Master, she was used to getting smacked around. It was the price she paid for being what she was. She’d always just taken it because she had no other choice. The life of a whore was never glamorous or easy, but it was the life she had, so she endured. And though she’d been a vampire for more than four centuries, the lessons had stuck with her. As such, she was only dazed for a heartbeat.

She retaliated, slamming both hands into Faith’s chest from her place on the floor, staggering the slayer back a pair of steps. It was a small reprieve, but it was all she needed. Or so she thought. The blonde vampire kicked herself to her feet. Faith’s boot was there to meet her, hammering her right back to the floor. Faith jumped and punched at Darla’s face.

The aged vampire rolled to the side, dodging the blow. Faith’s fist cracked into the ground, again shaking the room.

Darla landed a hard kick to the side of Faith’s head. The slayer fell to the ground, sparks flashing behind her eyes. Darla was on her feet and came in quickly, delivering a hard boot to Faith’s stomach, sending her sliding across the floor. The slayer let out a strangled grunt. It wasn’t necessarily a hard shot, but it _had_ caught her by surprise.

Faith wasn’t sure why, but it seemed that no matter what she did, Darla just kept getting back up. Faith had fought tough vampires before, but she didn’t understand where the woman’s endurance was coming from. She suddenly understood why Angel would have trouble dealing with the blonde.

Harry pulled away from Sirius and turned to watch Faith dismantle Darla. At least, that’s what he _expected_ to see. What he witnessed was anything but the rout he imagined it would be. He knew Faith was leveling blows that would cripple giants. Darla, for her part, looked like minced steak, she’d been beaten so badly. He saw Darla drop Faith to the ground, then land a hard shot that sent her along the floor. He could hear the impact both in the connection of boot to flesh and Faith’s surprised cry as she was hit.

Rage flashed in his eyes. He stepped forward leveling his wand. He quickly disregarded the childish jinxes and hexes he’d been taught at school. The beast was a lethal predator, so he needed to be lethal in turn. Bartaby Crouch Jr, in the guise of Alastor Moody last year, demonstrated a trio of spells that were the bane of the Wizarding world. They weren’t allowed, except in the most dire of circumstances. _Fighting a bloodthirsty vampire had best qualify_ , he pondered briefly. He desperately wanted to use the killing curse, but he daren’t attempt it, not knowing what the true result would be. _How do you kill what’s already dead?_ He asked himself. He did, however, know a spell that _would_ work. “ _Crucio_!” He shouted, angrily.

Darla was immediately wracked with pain. Her body felt like it was on fire. She growled and slowly turned to the boy, her vampire visage twisted in a mask of fury. Being what she was, doing as she’d done, pain was nothing new to her. Thus, she was able to fight through it. She’d see the boy dead for his interference.

Both Sirius and Harry were stunned as she began taking one grueling step after another toward them. The elder wizard likewise pointed his wand. “ _Crucio_!” He shouted, adding his considerable power to that of his godson.

Darla’s agony was redoubled. A painful shriek was torn from her throat as she collapsed to her knees. In all of her years as a human and vampire both, she’d never experienced anything as nauseatingly excruciating as this. Her mind blanked, consumed by nothing but white hot anguish.

Faith rose to her knees and turned to see both men doing their best to keep the vampire at bay. She got to her feet and staggered forward unsteadily. She recovered quickly, pulling her goblin-forged knife from her back. She stepped up to the vampire, gripped her long blonde hair and in one quick stroke, severed her head.

Harry and Sirius lowered their wands, breathing heavily. Slowly, Darla crumbled to the ground. The trio stared at each other, not saying a word for several seconds.

Faith slid her knife back into her sheath and stepped over to Harry. The boy launched himself into her arms, hugging her tightly to him. “I love you.” He said, softly.

“I love you, too baby.” She returned. She held him a few more seconds, then offered her hand to Sirius. He was pulled into their embrace. “Thanks.” She said, simply.

Harry turned to Sirius. “What spell was that you used?”

“Yeah, it looked pretty damn nasty.” Faith said. “I’ve never seen that one before.”

Sirius sighed heavily, regarding the pair. He was extremely hesitant to discuss it. He’d cast it in the heat of battle and hadn’t had time to consider the implications of it. He knew, however, given the nature of what they were to face… “It is a dark curse. I only know of it through Remus.” He bit his lip. “Professor Snape created it during our days at Hogwarts.”

“Seriously?” Faith said, crossing her arms. “That’s…” She grinned. “That’s kinda badass, to be honest with you.”

“What?” Sirius said, astonished. “How can you say that?”

“It’s like a vampire one-hit-kill spell.” Faith said. “I don’t condone using it on people, but that son of a bitch would be really nice to have when dealing with vampires and demons and shit.”

Harry and Sirius both couldn’t fault her logic. “Teach it to me.” The boy said to Sirius.

“It’s dark arts, Harry,” Sirius said. “It’s not something I should be teaching you.”

“I think you should.” Faith said to him. “Given what we got comin’ our way, he’s gonna need all the help he can get. You know that.”

Sirius ran his fingers through his hair, roughly. “You’re asking me to teach my godson the dark arts, Faith.”

Faith rubbed her face in her hands, groaning. “God, you people need to get shit straight.” She said, shaking her head.

“What do you-?” Sirius began

Faith cut him off. “Look.” She said, staring him in the eyes. “Magic is magic. It isn’t good or evil. I don’t give a shit what people say, there is no such thing as ‘Dark Arts’.” She said, making quotation marks in the air. She reached and pulled her knife from behind her back. “Magic is a tool, just like this knife.” She held it up. “It’s razor sharp and has the ability to kill. But it also can be used to just open a box, cut tape or slice a rope, making it utilitarian. But everyone looks at it as a weapon.” She cocked her head. “Magic is the same way. It doesn’t matter what the spell was _created_ to do.”

“She’s right, you know.” A sultry voice sounded into the room. “I’ve seen more than my fair share of magic. And it has always boiled down to _how_ it’s used.” Faith, Harry, and Sirius looked around the room, confused. “Over here.” The voice offered with a chuckle.

The three of them turned to the large red round sofa in the center of the lobby. Seated upon the velour in a relaxed posture was an extremely attractive brunette woman with pale blue eyes and an amused smirk on her face.

Their eyes drifted over the woman’s pale form. She looked quite fetching in her white corset top, white skin tight jeans, and white high heeled boots. She had what looked like a white hooded cape about her shoulders. The only true splash of contrast was the pair of black Colt Commander .45 pistols on her hips.

While Harry and Sirius were both drawn to the fact that the woman was busty as hell and seemed on the verge of spilling from her top, Faith was noticing that the gun-toting beauty had a body that screamed _action_. It was obvious to her that she was looking at a fighter. She had a feeling, seeing the casual ease the woman possessed that she was equally dangerous with or without the guns.

As they stared at her, she continued speaking. “She’s spot on. Magic isn’t a sentient entity. It doesn’t decide if it’s going to be inherently good or evil. It just _is_. Like anything else, it can be beneficial in the right hands or harmful in the wrong. The best course of action is to learn all of it you can and use your best judgment. In the learning, you can at least be prepared for when some evil as hell son of a bitch decides to use it on you. Then, at least, you know what you’re dealing with.”

“Told you. Even she gets it.” Faith said, nodding. She turned back to the woman. “Who are you?” Faith asked. She then raised an eyebrow. “And how the _hell_ are you not falling out of that top?”

She rose to her feet. All three of them were forced to look up at her. “Quentin Travers contacted me.” She strode over to them, offering her hand to Faith. “Elisa Cameron. I’m going to be holding the fort while Angel and company are in England.”

Faith could recognize that the woman was indeed capable just from the way she moved. “No offense, but you don’t exactly-,”

“Yeah,” Elisa said, chuckling. “I get that a lot.” She moved closer to Faith, then glided _through_ the slayer, to stand behind her. “I’m used to people judging the book by its cover.”

Faith started and jumped forward, turning to stare at her. “Don’t do that again.” She said, on edge.

Harry rested a comforting hand on his love’s shoulder before stepping forward toward Elisa. “I’m Harry.” The boy offered his hand. “Pardon me for asking, but…what are you?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Harry,” Elisa said, smiling. “And _dead_ would be the proper term for it. I’m a ghost.”

“Never seen any ghosts that carry around Colt semiautomatics before.” Faith said, indicating the woman’s weapons of choice. “Hate to rain on your parade, but those aren’t gonna do you much good against a vampire.”

Elisa patted Faith on the cheek. “That’s adorable. Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ve dealt with more than my fair share of vampires. I’ll be fine.”

Sirius stood just staring at her. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Do you plan on introducing yourself, or are you just gonna stare at me?”

“Can’t he do both?” Faith offered under her breath.

“Pardon me.” He said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. “Sirius Black. It is a genuine pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.”

Elisa giggled. “You’re a smooth operator, aren’t you?” She turned to Faith. “I like him.”

“Well, you can’t have him.” Faith said, relaxing a little. “I need him.”

The white-clad spirit sighed heavily. “That’s a shame.”

“So what did Quentin tell you about Los Angeles?” Faith asked.

“I’ve read all of the reports. And I’ve been here before. I know all about LA that I need to.” She said, patting Faith’s shoulder. “Relax. I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s just Quentin never mentioned bringing you in.” Faith said.

“I asked him not to,” Elisa said. “I wanted to gauge how you’d react.”

“What if I’d have stabbed your ass?” Faith said, crossing her arms.

“It was a chance I was willing to take.” She began walking about, looking at the hotel. “I figured you weren’t the stab first and ask questions later type.”

“Used to be.” Faith said.

“Not since meeting him, I’ll bet.” She pointed to Harry.

“True.” Faith said. “You know about Wolfram and Hart?”

Elisa narrowed her eyes. “Oh yeah.” She said, her voice low. “We’re gonna be having words, believe me.”

“Word has it they’re not just global.” Faith offered.

“I’m well aware. I’ll be taking extra pleasure in fucking up their plans.”

“How’d you bite it, just out of curiosity?” Faith asked.

“Got murdered. Got even.” She held her hands out. “Now, here I am.”

“You didn’t get sent on your way afterwards?” Sirius asked.

“I had the choice.” She shook her head. “Chose to stay here.” She reached out and caressed the side of his ruddy face. “As you can see, being dead hasn’t really hurt me much.”

He gave her a charmed smile. He took her hand and again kissed the back of it. “No, it hasn’t.”

“Okay, Mr. Fuzzy. We all got shit to do.” Faith said, pushing him away from the white-clad mercenary.

Elisa cracked her knuckles and turned to the door. “She’s right. I’m getting started. Got a lot of work to do.”

“If we pass by this way again, would you be willing to have dinner with me?” Sirius asked her.

She stopped and looked back at him. “Why not?” She said, blowing him a kiss. “See ya.” She then faded into nothingness.

“Why do I get the impression the problems in this city are gonna be solved very shortly?” Sirius asked, looking at Faith.

The slayer chuckled and shook her head. “I hear you. She definitely seems to be up for the job.”

“I like her. She was very pleasant.” Harry said, smiling.

“What two things did you find particularly pleasant, there bud?” Faith asked, joking.

Harry, for whatever reason, didn’t seem to get the joke, because his answer was all too appraising. “Her eyes. They were an impossible shade of blue. And she seemed… _content_. She’s dead, but…” He shook his head. “That doesn’t bother her. She wants to do good.” He stepped up and wrapped his arms around Faith’s waist. “A lot like you.”

“You expect me to believe you didn’t notice her tits?” Faith asked him.

“I did,” Sirius said, off hand. He caught Faith’s smirk and returned it.

“Oh, I noticed,” Harry answered. “They were nice.” He placed his face between Faith’s breasts and quickly shook his head back and forth, causing her to chuckle. “But why fantasize, when I have the real thing?”

She stared into his eyes for a moment, then kissed him intently. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He returned.

“Let’s get moving.” Faith said, leaving the hotel, locking up behind her. “We got a long drive to Sunnydale.”


	28. Chapter 28

Sirius had fallen asleep in the backseat of the car and was snoring softly. Harry rested his chin in his hand and was staring passively at the scenery as they drove along. He turned and looked at his girlfriend. Faith sat still, her left hand on the steering wheel and her right palm resting on the gear lever. As he stared at her profile, he could see the tense set of her jaw and just the stiff manner in which she was carrying herself. “Are you alright?” He asked her.

So wrapped up in her train of thought was she, that she visibly started when he spoke. She gave him a smile and nodded. “Yeah. Just thinkin’.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Well, you know pretty much all of it,” She said, shrugging. “Not much more to tell than that.”

“Buffy knows you're coming, doesn’t she?” Harry asked. Faith didn’t immediately answer him. “You… _did_ call her to tell her you were on your way, didn’t you?”

After a moment of silence, she spoke. “No.”

“You sure that’s wise?” Harry asked. “She might still be quite cross with you.”

“Pretty sure she will be.” Faith admitted. “But I owe it to her and everyone to help out. And that’s what I’m gonna do.”

She felt a ball of lead fall into the pit of her stomach as she flipped the blinker and pulled onto the exit. She raced past the ‘Now Entering Sunnydale’ sign and let out a breath.

“What are we going to do, first?” Harry asked.

“Figured I’d start with B and kind of work my way around.” Faith said. She drove through the town, looking it over. “Place is a lot quieter than it was when I was here last.”

“Well, it is just after two in the morning,” Harry said, chuckling.

“Should probably wait until morning, but I wanna talk to B as soon as possible.” Faith said as she turned the corner and pulled onto Revello Drive. “Hope she still lives here.” The car came to a stop. She reached back and slapped Sirius’ foot. “Wake up, McGruff. We’re here.”

“Huh? What?” He said, lifting his head and rubbing his eyes. “Hmm?”

“We’ve reached Sunnydale,” Harry said as he stepped out of the car. He flipped the seat forward so the elder wizard could emerge.

“Oh,” He said, climbing out and straightening his attire. “Rather nice house, this.”

“Yeah. Especially given how much damage B and I did last time we threw down,” Faith offered.

Harry lifted an eyebrow and stared at her as she, in turn, gazed at the house. Her tenseness was almost palpable. He reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Breathe, Faith.”

She did as he said, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “Let’s do this,” She said, heading up the stairs. She knew it was late and that propriety suggested they hold off until a more appropriate hour, but some things just couldn’t wait.

Her finger was just about to the doorbell when the door flew open. Faith looked on at the girl she hadn’t seen in nearly a year. One of the things that had always galled her the most was that Buffy, no matter what, always looked like a million bucks. Her hair was always perfect, her clothes always seemed immaculate and her face was always beautiful and bright, despite what the world threw at her…until now.

As Faith looked on at her sister slayer, she was heartbroken. Gone was the bright blonde luster of the girl’s golden locks. Her eyes were sunken and had massive bags beneath them. Her attire looked as if she hadn’t changed them in days. “Christ, B. You look like hell.”

Buffy stared at Faith a moment longer…then stepped out onto the porch and threw her arms about the dark haired slayer, sobbing. “I’m so glad to see you,” Buffy said, softly.

Faith had to admit, _that_ surprised the hell out of her. She never, in a million years, thought she would hear those words from Buffy. “I’m here for ya, B,” She returned. She eased the crying slayer into the house and over to the sofa. They sat down and Buffy continued to hold Faith as she wept.

Harry and Sirius both stepped in and closed the door behind them.

“It’s okay, B. I’m here.” Faith said, stroking Buffy’s head as she held her. “I gotcha.”

“I need help,” Buffy said, her voice almost a whisper. “I can’t do it anymore.”

“That’s bull, B,” Faith said, easing the girl back to stare into her eyes. She wiped Buffy’s tears away with her thumbs. “That’s total bullshit. You’re Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Always will be.”

Buffy sniffed and stared into Faith’s eyes. “I’m so tired, Faith. I’m tired of having to be strong for everyone. I’m tired of having to be the one that doesn’t flinch.”

Faith shook her head. “Well, I’m here now. You aren’t alone. I’m gonna be what I should have been back then.” She leaned forward and kissed Buffy on the forehead. “I’m gonna be a friend.”

Buffy smiled up at the girl. “I could really use one right about now.”

“You got friends, B. You got Red, Tweed, and Xander.” She pulled her in again and hugged her. “But none of them really know how it feels to be you. None of them know what it is to be a slayer.”

“You do.” Buffy offered. “Maybe you knew more about what it meant to be a slayer than I ever did.”

“Maybe,” Faith said. She again looked at the blonde. “But I lost sight of that damn quickly. I was damaged goods  back there and back then. I had problems. Got through most of them. Working hard on the rest. That’s why I’m here. I can’t make up for what I did tucked away in a castle in Scotland.”

Buffy wiped her eyes and sniffled. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.” She then turned to see the two others in the room. “Pardon me while I have a Lifetime moment.”

“That’s quite alright,” Sirius said, giving her a charming smile. “Being responsible for the fate of the world tends to weigh heavily.” He offered his hand. “Sirius Black.”

“Buffy Summers.” She took his hand.

He immediately kissed the back of it. “It is a genuine pleasure to meet you, Miss Summers.”

Buffy blushed a little. “Thanks.”

“This is my boyfriend, Harry.” Faith said, motioning to the boy.

“ _You_ have a boyfriend?” Buffy said, taking Harry’s hand as he offered it. “Never thought I’d see that.”

“We just sort of…fell in together,” Harry said, looking at Faith. “She made quite the impression.”

“Yeah, I’ll just bet she did,” Buffy said, grinning.

Faith likewise smiled. “There it is.”

Buffy looked at her with her eyebrow raised. “There _what_ is?”

“That smile of yours,” Faith said, tapping Buffy on the end of the nose. “Always thought you had a great smile, B.” She then looked at the house. “Mrs. S and little D around?”

Buffy sighed and shook her head. “They’re at the hospital. Mom has to have surgery to fix a brain aneurysm.” She chuckled despite herself. “When I started college, I made a joke about it when I got my textbooks. I said that I hoped it was a funny aneurysm. Turns out it wasn’t so funny.”

Faith paled. She had always liked Joyce. After the fact, she had felt absolutely terrible about what she’d done to the woman. She knew just how serious brain bleeds could be. She wanted more than anything to help. She was then stricken with an idea. She immediately looked to Harry. “You think Pomfrey might be able to help her out?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know what a…whatever she has is.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Buffy asked.

“I screwed up and owe your mom a huge apology. And I think I might have just found a way to make up for coming after her last year.” She quickly dialed Quentin’s number.

“Hello?”

“Q? It’s Faith. Need a favor. I’m in Sunnydale right now. I’m with Buffy.” The blonde slayer looked at her with a furrowed brow.

“How are things going?” He asked. “Have you spoken to her about-?”

She cut him off. “Not yet. I just got here. But I can pretty much guarantee if you did something for me, she’ll be back in no problem.”

“What do you need?”

“I need priority transportation for her mom to Hogwarts.” Faith said. “Don’t know how you’ll get her there, but she needs to go.”

“No,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “She should get to Saint Mungos. It’s a wizarding Hospital. They’ll make her right as rain in no time.”

“Did you catch that?” Faith asked Quentin.

“Um…” Quentin wasn’t sure exactly what to say.

“She’s got a brain aneurysm.” Faith said. “You know that shit’s serious. She’s on borrowed time.”

Quentin did indeed know. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks, Quentin.” Faith said, ending the call. “Let’s go.” She rose to her feet and offered her hand to Buffy. “We’re gonna go tell your mom the good news.”

“What good news? What are you talking about?” Buffy asked as she let Faith pull her to her feet.

“I know what Faith is on about.” Sirius offered. “She’s going to have your mother taken to Saint Mungo’s Hospital and have magical healers put your mother’s condition to rights.”

“Okay, there are some questions that _desperately_ need answering.” Buffy began.

“Let’s talk as I drive.” Faith said, opening the door.

Buffy stepped out and stopped, looking at the car. “Burt Reynolds called. He wants his car back.”

“Who do you think sold it to me?” Faith asked her, grinning. “Hop in, Sally.” She moved over and unlocked the doors. “Buffy gets shotgun.”

Harry and Sirius both climbed into the backseat without complaint. Buffy took her place in the passenger seat. “It’s really nice in here.”

“Yeah. Quentin bought this for me.” Faith said. “Kind of a…signing bonus.”

Buffy turned to look at her. “The Watcher’s Council bought you a Trans Am?”

“Shit, that’s nothin’.” Faith said as she fired the car up. “Also kicking me five grand a month. Retroactive. Except when I was, you know, evil and in a coma.” She looked at Harry in the rearview. “Hand me that envelope, would you babe?” Harry nodded and offered it to her. “Here. Quentin wants you and Giles back on the clock. He’s willing to pay you and cough up the back green you’re owed.”

Buffy pulled the paperwork out and looked at over. “Six hundred thousand…” Her voice trailed off. She slowly turned to Faith. “That’s a lot of money.”

“Just enough for you to blow it all on clothes.” The brunette slayer said, teasing.

“Funny,” Buffy said, looking back at the papers. “I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it. Watcher HQ knows they screwed things up. They wanna make it right. This is a chance for you to put it behind you and let them back in. They also gave me some stuff on Glory. I was gonna get together with you and Tweed to go over it all. But I figured we should probably get your mom and sister out of Dodge, first. Make sure they’re safe. Then were can concentrate on wrecking Glory’s shit.”

Buffy fought past the lump in her throat. In a matter of minutes, Faith had simply swooped in and solved most of her problems. It wasn’t something she expected from the normally confrontational slayer. “Thank you, Faith.”

Faith flicked her eyes to her blonde counterpart. “I owe you.” They pulled up to the hospital not long after.

Buffy bypassed the front desk, given that she knew what room her mother was in. She stopped at the door and turned to Harry and Sirius. “She’s probably asleep. Could you two wait out here? I don’t want her freaking out. Seeing Faith is gonna be shock enough.”

Sirius nodded. “Of course.”

Harry pulled Faith in and kissed her. “I know you’re a bit nervous about seeing her again. Just be yourself. Be who I met that day in Little Whinging and you’ll be fine.”

She gave him a smile. “Thanks, baby.” She said, patting his shoulder. She then followed Buffy into the dark hospital room. The only sounds were the beep of machines and the soft snores of both Joyce and Dawn. The teen was slouched in a chair beside the bed. “This doesn’t bring back memories at all.” Faith said, quietly.

Buffy chuckled as she moved closer to the bed. Faith hung back, waiting for her cue. The blonde reached down and touched Joyce’s arm. “Mom?”

Joyce fluttered her eyes open and looked at her daughter. She gave her an immediate smile. “Hey, baby.” She said, softly. She flicked her eyes to the side, peering into the shadows. “Is there someone here with you?” She asked. “Please tell me I’m not seeing things.”

Buffy sighed. “No, you’re not seeing things.” She turned and nodded.

Faith slowly emerged from the darkness. “Hey, Mrs. S.” She said, sheepishly.

Joyce was quiet. Despite looking like the picture of calm, her heart rate began to climb. “Faith.” She said, coldly. She turned to regard Buffy with a raised eyebrow. _Explain_ , the expression said.

“Faith came to help out with Glory,” Buffy said.

“I know it probably won’t mean much to you, especially coming from me, but I _am_ genuinely sorry for the crap I put you and your family through.” Faith said, moving closer. “I really am. I hope someday you might be able to find it in your heart to forgive me.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

Dawn chose that moment to wake up, rubbing her eyes. “Hey, Buffy.” She said, groggily. She then, like her mother stopped moving entirely when she saw Faith. “What the hell is she doing here?”

“She’s here to help,” Buffy said.

“I really don’t think _her_ kind of help is what we need,” Dawn said, bitterly. “I think Glory has enough henchman, don’t you?”

Faith understood the girl’s anger, she really did. “Glory isn’t my type. Nowhere near affable enough.” She was trying for humor. She could see that it was not winning the Summers women over.

“Faith? Stop helping.” Buffy said to her. “Look, Dawn. Right now, we can use all the help we can get.” She handed the paperwork to her mother. “She brought that from the Watcher’s Council. They want to reinstate me and start actually _paying_ me.”

Joyce pulled it out and read through it. “My god.” She looked at her daughter. “Why am I paying for your college education?” She had a bit of a twinkle in her eye as she said it.

“Because you’re my mommy. Comes with the territory.” Buffy said, crossing her arms and pouting. “And puppy dog face.” She said, pointing to her expression.

“You’re being taken out of this hospital.” Faith said, getting back on topic. “B told me what was going on with your noggin.” She shook her head. “I ain’t havin’ it. Got some friends that can get you fixed up without having to slice into your brainpan.”

Joyce looked at her skeptically. “I have to have surgery, Faith.”

“No, you don’t.” Faith said, shaking her head again. “And more to the point, I ain’t gonna let you. Your hair is way too nice to have a chunk of it missing so they can go all Sweeney Todd on your dome. Watcher’s Council is sending some people. They’re gonna take you back to England.” Faith turned to Dawn. “You’re goin’ with her. With you two out of harm’s way, B and I can get down to business and do what we do best.”

“Why should we trust you?” Dawn said, sharply. “No offense, but we trusted you before.”

Faith was about to retort, but Buffy was the one to answer. “No, Dawn. We didn’t. When Faith arrived, she was alone and afraid. And we saw her as an outsider and never really let her in.” She looked to the brunette. “That was our fault. If we’d have tried harder…” She shrugged. “Who knows.”

“But she-,” Dawn began, but Joyce rested a hand on the girl’s arm, quieting her.

“No, Buffy’s right.” She looked to Faith. “We all could have tried harder. I could have just as easily turned the basement into a spare bedroom.”

Faith sighed and shrugged. “I had a really hard time trusting back then. I might have turned you down.”

“But I know enough about you, Faith, to know that you would have appreciated the offer.” The elder Summers said, matter of fact.

She was right, Faith knew. To know that someone cared back then would have been nice. She stared at the woman a moment then ran around to the side of the bed opposite Dawn and Buffy and hugged Joyce firmly. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. S.” She said, her voice cracking.

“Do you regret what you did, Faith?” Joyce asked as she held the young slayer.

“Every damn day.” Faith cried.

“Then I forgive you. Sometimes hard lessons are the only lessons.” Joyce pushed her to arm’s length. “You chose to come back and face your demons, Faith. That takes a strength of character that few possess. You’re willing to put your past firmly behind you and be the slayer we all knew you could be. That means a lot to me.”

Faith gave her a dimpled smile as she wiped her eyes. “Thanks, Mrs. S. I appreciate that.” Suddenly the door opened. Faith and Buffy both stood side by side, ready for anything.

Sirius and Harry stepped in, flanked by a group of four men dressed in black sweatshirts and fatigue pants. “These men say they’re from the Watcher’s Council,” Sirius said, sternly. “They have identification.”

Faith stepped forward. “Quentin sent you?” She asked.

A tall man with short dark hair nodded. “He did.” He gave her a smile. “We’re all quite familiar with Hogwarts and with you. We would say to ask your friend Umbridge, but that would be impossible at present.”

Faith turned to Buffy. “They’re legit.”

Another man came in with a wheelchair. “Mrs. Summers?” He offered with a very charming smile. “Your chariot awaits.”

Soon Joyce was disconnected from the medical equipment and settled into the chair. “Don’t worry.” The man said to Buffy. “She’s in good hands.”

Buffy nodded to him and leaned down, hugging her mother firmly. “I’ll see you guys soon.”

“Be careful, sweetheart,” Joyce said. She then looked at Faith. “I’m trusting you with my daughter’s life.”

“And I’ll protect her with mine.” Faith said. “I let you down once. Not gonna happen again.” She then turned to Dawn. “It was good seeing you again, little D.”

“Anything happens to my sister and you’re gonna wake up on fire,” Dawn said, before turning and heading out of the room behind her mother and the four black-clad figures.

“When the hell did she get so scary?” Faith asked.

“Couldn’t tell you,” Buffy said, chuckling. “Maybe it’s just you.” She turned to Faith. “You do seem to bring that out in people.”

“I _will_ slap you.” Faith said, pushing past the blonde and heading for the door.

“I could always turn her into a frog,” Sirius said with a smile. “I did quite well in transfigurations, actually.”

Buffy turned and looked at him. “And just when I thought I liked you.”

Harry and Sirius didn’t stop grinning all the way to the car.


	29. Chapter 29

“I know Giles is gonna be pissed we come knockin’ on his door this early in the morning without something to wake his ass up.” Faith said, pulling into an all night coffee shack. “But the shit we gotta talk about is important.” Buffy lifted a brow but said nothing. “You two want anything?” Faith asked, looking at Harry and Sirius. “This place, believe it or not, makes a pretty good English Breakfast blend.”

Sirius scoffed. “We’ll be judges of that.”

She smirked as she pulled up to the window. She was rather surprised to see the girl inside dressed in a skimpy bikini. “Hello, _nurse_.” She said out loud. “When did you guys become a bikini barista?” Faith asked her.

“About six months ago.” The girl said in return.

Buffy furrowed her brow and leaned down, looking in. “Aura?” She asked, looking her up and down.

“Buffy.” The girl said, smiling. “Haven’t seen you since graduation.”

“You two know each other?” Faith asked.

“We went to high school together. Aura here was one of Cordy’s friends.” Buffy returned. “What are you doing working here?”

“Money’s good, I get free coffee,” Aura said. “Heard about your mom. It’s all over campus. She doin’ okay?”

Buffy nodded. “She’s um…” She looked at Faith. “She’s flying to London to see a specialist. The prospects are good that she’ll make a full recovery.”

“That’s good. Had an aunt that passed away from an aneurysm. They’re no joke. So what can I get for you guys?”

“Gimme two large triple shot mochas.” Faith said. She turned to Buffy. “Whip cream?” The blonde grinned and nodded. “One with whip cream. Boys?” She addressed the pair in the back.

“Let me try that English Breakfast blend,” Sirius said.

“I’ll have what you’re having,” Harry said. He was a closet coffee fan. He would always have a cup whenever he and Faith were alone. That and he knew that if Faith liked it, he more than likely would, too.

“Make that three triple shot mochas and two of your large English Breakfast blends.” She gave the menu board a quick look over. “And give me a half dozen of those banana nut bean bag chairs you call muffins.”

Aura chuckled and nodded. “You got it.” She said, getting to work. “That’s a whopping thirty-eight seventy-five.”

Faith fished a fifty dollar bill out of her wallet and handed it over. “Keep it.” She said, earning a bright smile. Faith looked to Buffy. “Figured we could all use a little something to keep our stomachs from rubbing holes in our backbones.”

“I like muffins,” Buffy said.

“Everybody likes muffins.” Harry offered.

“I know I do,” Sirius said. “Though, to be honest, I’ve never had a banana nut muffin before. Never had a banana nut _anything_ before, now that I ponder it.”

“Oh, that’s just horrible,” Buffy said, looking back at him. “My mom used to make the best banana nut bread.”

“She will again, B.” Faith said to her. She pat the girl’s leg with her hand. “We’ll get her head screwed back on straight, then get the Summers babes reunited to do what you all do best.”

Buffy looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “And that would be what?”

“Livin’ downtown, drivin’ all the old men crazy.” Faith said, grinning.

“ _The boys are back in town, the boys are back in town…_ ” Harry began singing.

“Yeah, you two _definitely_ belong together,” Buffy said, shaking her head.

Aura turned and handed her a drink carrier with four beverages in it. “Here you are.” She offered. Faith took it and handed it back to the boys. “And one more. That one has the whip.” Faith passed the drink to Buffy. “And your bean bag chairs.”

“Thanks.” Faith said to her. “Catch you later.”

“You, too. Have a good night.” Aura said, giving them a wave.

Faith rumbled away, checking traffic before pulling into the street. “Damn, she was hot. Killer rack.”

“She always was pretty,” Buffy admitted. “All the Cordettes, at the very least, had that going for them.”

“I’m betting most of them weren’t pretty, they just looked that way,” Sirius said, taking his drink from the carrier.

Harry laughed as he handed Faith’s to her. “Reminds me of Pansy Parkinson.”

“The girl I paired Hermione with?” Faith asked. As Harry nodded, Faith snorted. “Say what you want, girl’s picking up my defensive lessons like a champ.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that she’s still an insufferable twat.” Harry shot back. “Though I have to admit I do take a small bit of pleasure in watching her frustrate Hermione.”

“That’s mean, Harry.” Faith said to him. She was doing her best not to smile.

“Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed that Hermione can be a bit of a… _nag_.”

“I try my best not to talk ill about my students.” Faith said. “Personalities are like feet. Everyone’s got ‘em and most of ‘em stink.”

Sirius and Harry both laughed out loud. Buffy just turned to the brunette. “Two things. One, that was really profound for you and two, ew.”

“Nasty or not, you can’t tell me it isn’t true.” Faith said as they pulled up to Giles’ flat.

“It just still amazes me that you’re actually a teacher. I mean, you. In charge of educating students.” Buffy said. “Even you have to admit, you never expected to be doing that.”

“I never expected to be _going_ to school, let alone teaching.” Faith admitted.

“Faith is a wonderful teacher.” Harry piped up. “She’s teaching us invaluable lessons.”

“Thanks, baby.” Faith said. She looked up at the flat. “Is his light seriously still on?”

“Yeah. He’s been racking his brain over this Glory thing. He asked the Council for help, but they haven’t gotten back to him yet. He figured with being fired…” She shrugged.

“Well, they came through.” Faith said. “Harry?” She held her hand out. He slapped a file folder into it. “This is all the council knows about Glory. I wanted to get together with the two of you and go over it.”

“He’ll appreciate it, believe me,” Buffy said, climbing out of the car. The four of them made their way to the door. Buffy reached up and rapped firmly. A moment later, Giles, looking rather disheveled, answered. “Here.” She said, handing him the cup of tea Faith had bought for him. “You look like you could use this.”

He took it, furrowing his brow. “It’s nearly three in the morning. What are you doing here?”

“We come bearing gifts.” Faith said, offering the file folder. “How you doin’ Tweed?” She asked him.

He smiled at her. “Faith.” He said, setting the drink and folder down, before pulling her in for a hug. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Been a long time.” She said to him. She stepped aside and motioned to the boys. “This is Harry Potter.” As the boy stepped into the apartment, a flash of arcane light pulsed around the door. Harry was immediately blown backward to land hard on the cement. Everyone was stunned into silence at the display.

Finally, it was Faith that spoke. “Okay, he has _not_ been out of my sight since we landed and I know for a _fact_ it takes longer than like, three hours for someone to be turned, so it couldn’t have happened in LA.”

Harry sat up, rubbing his scar furiously. “Oh, my head.”

Sirius stared at Harry a moment then looked around the doorway. “Do you have any kind of magical wards on your home?” He asked.

Giles stared at the man a moment. “You’re Sirius Black, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. Answer the question.”

“There are an awful lot of people looking for you,” Giles said to him.

“Tweed? Can we worry about that later? Answer the man’s question.” Faith shot out.

“Yes. I had Willow and Tara help me put up protections in case of well, Hellmouth.” Giles answered. “Given how often-,”

Faith waved him off. “Ain’t gotta explain it. It was a good idea.” She looked to Sirius. “You think it’s…?” She tapped her forehead then pointed at Harry.

Sirius nodded. “I’d be willing to bet.” He moved out and helped Harry to his feet. “I want to test a theory.” He guided Harry over to the door. “Can you put any part of your body through the doorway?”

Harry swallowed and held his hand out tentatively. His fingers moved across the threshold without incident. He let out a sigh of relief.

Faith immediately nodded. “B? I’m gonna need your help.” She said, stepping outside. “Turn around, baby.” Harry did as he was asked. “I hope this works. B? Grab his waist and pull while I push.”

“Wait, what are you doing?” Harry asked.

“Trust me, baby.” Faith said to him. “This might sting a little bit.” She shoved him backward through the doorway as Buffy wrapped strong arms around his waist and heaved with all her might. He fell backward, but was stopped as the line of doorway reached his scar. Agonizing, excruciating pain wracked his slender form. His head felt like it was going to split open. He let out a scream. Blood began dripping down his forehead as the lightning shaped gash reopened. Faith continued to push as her sister slayer likewise pulled.

With what sounded like cracking bone and tearing flesh, Harry was forced back into Giles’ flat. The power of Giles, Willow and Tara’s combined won out over the accidental fusion of killer and target. In a bright green flash, Harry slammed to the wooden floor.

A thick oily phantasm appeared at the door, looking disoriented and disbelieving. “No.” It said, its voice raspy and broken. “NO!” It screamed.

Faith jumped and spun, loosing a hard back kick at the ghost. Her foot sailed through its incorporeal form.

“Stupid child!” The mist snarled. A bony clawed hand shot out. Black miasma swirled and rushed toward her, slamming into her chest and casting her back to crash to the ground. “You are nothing to me.”

“Avada Kadavra!” Sirius shouted, pointing his wand at the specter. The green blast whipped through the form, dispersing it briefly.

It reformed a moment later, smiling. “Noble effort, Animagus. But it is not enough.” Again the ghost of Voldemort threw his hands forward. The fog raced toward the door but was stopped and blown outward as it hit the magical barrier.

Giles ran to the chest beside his stairwell and threw it open. Meanwhile, Faith ran and dove through the phantom and shoulder rolled to her feet. “This didn’t really go as planned.”

“What did you think was gonna happen?” Buffy asked her.

“You know, I hadn’t really planned that far ahead, to be perfectly honest.” Faith offered.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Buffy said, looking around for something to use to fight the monstrous image.

“Won’t be the last, either believe me.” Faith added.

Harry had joined Sirius and the pair were slinging spells, _any_ spell that would have an effect. Sadly, they were coming up short. The apparition was enraged, blasting at the barrier with abandon. Each time a ram of mist collided with the field, the resulting light dimmed. The smell of sulfur began filling the room.

“Tweed? I think he’s comin’ through!”

Giles found what he was looking for and rose to his feet. “Then let us do something about that, shall we?” He rushed forward, a small leather pouch in his hand. He opened the bag and flung its contents out at the phantasm. “Falbh truaillichte spiorad! Air ais dhan cia as a thàinig thu Hail!” Upon completion of the words, the fine dust erupted into black, blue and green fire. The misty form of Voldemort’s soul fragment was immediately torn asunder and thrown into the skies, rushing eastward. Giles staggered and fell against the doorjamb.

Faith and Buffy both took his arms and led him to his easy chair. “Damn, Tweed. That was some serious mojo.”

“What did you do?” Harry asked him.

“It was Gaelic,” Sirius said. “It was some sort of banishing ritual, wasn’t it?”

Giles nodded. “I banished his ghost back to where it came from. The part of him that was within you has rejoined the whole. He shouldn’t plague you any longer.”

Faith looked at Harry with a surprised expression. “I did _not_ expect that.” She said to him. She reached up and, with a napkin, wiped the blood from his forehead.

“I can tell,” Harry said, smiling to take the venom from his words. “It’s alright.” He hugged her tightly. “Hopefully this means no more nightmares.”

“Be a nice change, wouldn’t it?” Faith asked him. He gave her an emphatic nod.

Sirius closed the door and stepped over to Giles, offering his hand. “Sirius Black. We weren’t formally introduced. And yes, there are quite a few people that are hunting for me. But rest assured they hunt an innocent man.” Sirius said. “Peter Pettigrew is alive and well and in the dark lord’s employ.”

Giles looked to Faith for confirmation. She shrugged. “Never met the dude, but I know Sirius and Harry enough to know that if they say he’s still kickin’ that it’s the truth.”

Giles turned back to the wizard. “If Faith trusts you, then that’s enough for me.”

“Here.” Faith said, reaching into the bag and pulling out a large plastic wrapped muffin. “It ain’t a scone or anything fancy, but it’s good and filling. And after that display, you look like you could use it.”

“Thank you,” Giles said. He began looking over the information contained in the file folder as he ate. Faith dropped down on the couch. Harry fell in beside her. Sirius took his seat next to Harry and Buffy sat on the arm next to Faith.

“So anyone wanna tell me who or _what_ that was?” Buffy asked.

“It’s a long story.” Sirius Black offered.

“Ghost of an evil wizard bent on world domination.” Faith said to her.

“Apparently not that long,” Sirius added.

“When we finish up here, we gotta go back and take him out. He’s making shit difficult in England. Council wants me to put an end to him.” Faith said. “That’s why I recruited Angel and Company to help me out. We need soldiers. And the way we see it, even in Angel loses his soul, he’ll take Moldy-shorts out just for pissing him off. Either way, it ain’t looking good for the magic-man.”

Buffy stared at Faith. She knew that the dark-haired slayer was making light of Angelus. She still remembered the horrible things he did and how she felt having to be the one to stop him. There were very few things in the world she could think of more terrifying than the demon that dwelled within the vampire she loved.

Faith saw the serious set of Buffy’s face and gently poked her bottom. “Butt’s gettin’ a little boney, slayer.”

“Shut up, Faith,” Buffy said, swatting at her hand. She was immediately pulled from her inner reverie. “And I’ll have you know it’s hard for me to put on weight.”

“I’m just pitching you crap, B. You still rock it.” Faith said, patting her on her back.

Buffy immediately lifted her thick blonde hair out of the way. “Scratch.”

Faith chuckled. “Alright, but if you start thumpin’ your leg, I stop.” She began scratching Buffy’s back.

“Mmm. That’s nice.” She said, tilting her head forward. She let Faith go for a couple minutes before sighing. “Thank you.”

“No problem, B.” She turned to Giles to see him paling. “What’s up, Tweed?”

He looked at her, fear in his eyes. “Have you read this at all?”

She shook her head. “No. Q said to get it to you. You’d know what to do with it.”

“Why?” Buffy asked. “What does it say?”

“Glory isn’t a demon.” He said, his voice nearly failing. “She’s a god.”

“Bullshit!” “What?” “How is that possible?” “There’s more than one?” Faith, Buffy, Sirius and Harry all blurted respectively and in unison.

“I assure you, it isn’t bullshit,” Giles said to Faith. “I said Glory, or Glorificus as she was originally called, is a god. A hell goddess, to be precise.” He offered to Buffy. “I’m not entirely sure, how.” He said to Sirius and to Harry he said, “Yes, there is more than one. Each different dimension would have its own religious tenets with its own pantheon.”

Harry turned to Sirius. “Would the unforgivable curses work on a goddess?”

Sirius didn’t have an answer for him. “I don’t know.”

“Trust me, push comes to shove, McGruff, you’re gonna find out.” Faith said to him. She turned back to Giles. “So we know that she’s a goddess. There anything in there on what she wants or how to take her out.”

“We already know she’s looking for something called the key. We just don’t know what it is.” Buffy said. “Thankfully, neither does she.”

“As for killing her, well…” Giles flipped through the papers. “There’s a lot to go through.”

Faith rubbed her face in her hands. “Alright. Sirius, Harry and I are gonna check into a hotel and get some sleep.” She looked at Buffy. “You want us to drop you off at your place?”

Buffy shook her head. “No. I’ll stay and keep Giles company. Can’t sleep anyway.”

“I’m sure the sugar and caffeine didn’t help.” Faith said to her. “We’ll stop back by tomorrow afternoon. The rest of the Scoobies should be here. I wanna get the apologies out of the way so we can get down brass tacks and figure out a way to kill god.” Faith sighed and shook her head. “And I thought dealing with Voldemort was gonna be a bitch.”

“From what I hear, he’s as close to a god as this world can get.” Giles offered. “Whatever small comfort that might be.”

“Yeah, try no comfort, Tweed.” Faith said. “On the plus side, we did at least get Mrs. S and little D out of the line of fire.”

“What?” Giles asked, looking from one slayer to the other.

“Mrs. Summers is being taken as we speak to Saint Mungos for treatment of her affliction,” Sirius said. “The healers there can make short work of her…” He looked to Buffy.

“Aneurysm.” She reminded him.

“Right. Her aneurysm. They’ll get her healed up and back on her feet in no time.” Sirius gave him a smile. “With Buffy’s head clear of that nonsense, she and Faith can concentrate their efforts with you and get this situation handled properly. Of course, Harry and I will be sure to help in any way we can.”

“Your magic use will definitely be of a benefit,” Giles said, relief in his voice.

Buffy looked at Faith and the boys. “Why don’t you guys go ahead and take off? I have to talk to Giles about something.”

“No problem, B.” Faith said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You need me, just give a buzz, alright?” Buffy gave her a nod, patting her hand. Faith looked to Giles. “Good seeing you again, Tweed. We’ll hook up tomorrow afternoon.”

“Goodnight, Faith. It was a pleasure meeting the pair of you.” He said to Sirius and Harry.

“You as well.” Sirius offered.

“Have a wonderful night,” Harry said, following Faith and her godfather out of the flat.

Buffy watched them go and fell back on the sofa. She was exhausted, but she knew full well sleep would come difficult if at all.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Giles asked her.

“After this business with Glory is over,” She sighed and stared down at her mocha for a moment. “I’m leaving Sunnydale for a while.”

Giles stared at her long and hard. “Buffy you can’t just-,”

Buffy interrupted him. “Not permanently.” She looked him in the eyes. “But I _need_ to get away from this town for a while.”

He sighed heavily and sat on his coffee table, facing her. “I know things are hard on you right now…”

She raised an eyebrow. “Right now?” She asked. “Giles, things are _always_ hard on me. There isn’t a time when things aren’t hard-,” She cut herself off as she saw smirk threatening Giles’ lips. She closed her eyes and groaned. “Thanks, Faith.” She said, quietly to herself. “But isn’t gonna get easier. It’s _never_ gonna get easier. The Master, Angelus, The Mayor, Adam and now a freaking _goddess_?” She shot up and started pacing. “I mean, we take her out _if_ we take her out, what’s gonna be next? Gabriel? Michael? _Lucifer_?” She leaned her head back, rubbed her face in her hands and growled. “I know, I know.” She said, before turning to look at him. “Destiny, fate, yadda, yadda.” She dropped back down onto the couch. “I just need time away from Sunnydale.”

“Where would you go? What would you do?” Giles asked her.

“I was thinking of going with Faith to England. It sounds like she’s got some pretty serious stuff on her plate.” Giles nodded his agreement. He knew full well what she was dealing with and knew that _serious_ didn’t quite cut it. “She dropped everything and flew to help, Giles. She was safely tucked away in Scotland. She didn’t have to do that. She could have gone the rest of her life never having to see any of us again. She didn’t have to face her past like this.” She sighed and leaned her head back. “But here she is. She went to bat for me and you, getting both of us reinstated with the Watcher’s Council, she-,”

“What?” Giles asked, not sure he heard her correctly. “Did you say reinstated?”

“Oh, crap,” Buffy said, sitting up. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the folded up papers. “Yeah. She said that Quinton was putting us both back on the roster. He’s paying me five grand a month and is paying you again, retroactively.”

Giles took the paperwork and looked it over. “I’ll be. Thank you, Faith.” He said, his voice cracking a bit.

“When we get done dealing with Glory, I wanna go and help her in England. This Vulcan-morph guy sounds like a serious piece of work. Or a serious piece of something.”

“Voldemort.” Giles corrected. “And I’m sure Faith would have no end of colorful metaphors to describe him.”

“Colorful metaphor,” Buffy said, snickering. “That is definitely an innocent way to put it. I think we’d be able to bring something to the table.”

“What do you mean, _we_?” Giles asked.

“You’re my Watcher, Giles. I’m not going without you.” Buffy said to him. “I know I haven’t…” She bit her lip as she looked at him. “I knew I haven’t been keeping you in the loop as much as I should have.”

“You’ve your own life to live, Buffy. I’m important only to a small part of that.”

“You’re important to my life full stop.” Buffy offered. “That and I’m not going to England without you. I know like, next to nothing about it. All of my knowledge consists of a documentary on Big Ben and _London Bridge is Falling Down_. I’m actually quite proud of the fact that I know Big Ben refers to the bell and not the tower. That and I think the Union Jack is really cool.”

“You’d be at a complete loss,” Giles said to her. “Then we’ll get Glory handled and see about a British Holiday. But that does leave the question who would-,”

“You’re wondering who would handle the Hellmouth.” Buffy asserted. Giles gave her a nod. “I’m sure Spike would be willing if he was getting paid.”

“I’ll call and clear it with Quinton. You get to handle Spike.” Giles said. “Not a task I envy you.”

Buffy nodded. “I know.” She looked at her watch. “Might as well go and get it done.”

“Good luck.” He returned, turning his attention back to the paperwork.

“Gonna need it.” Buffy shot back as she left his apartment.


	30. Chapter 30

Harry stood on the balcony just outside the room he shared with Faith. The slayer lay sprawled across the bed fast asleep. He regarded her a moment, then turned and leaned on the banister. The town of Sunnydale stretched out before him. He sipped the glass of juice and was content to watch it for a few minutes. He knew that they had a monumental task ahead of them. Buffy, Giles and everyone else seemed very, _very_ worried.

He wasn’t sure just how serious a threat this Glory actually was. Given who he had on his scent, he just couldn’t get worked up about it. He was fairly certain that he, Faith and Sirius would be able to handle anything. But the fact that rest of them seemed so genuinely concerned did stress him a bit.

The ring of the phone in the bedroom stole his attention. He stepped back inside, closing the door and sat on the edge of the bed. He lifted the receiver and put it to his ear. “Hello?” He politely asked.

“Mr. Potter.” A sharp British accent offered. “May I speak with Faith, please?”

He recognized the man’s voice immediately. “Absolutely, Mr. Travers. One moment.” He reached over and gently shook Faith awake. “Quentin wants to speak with you.”

Faith groaned and rolled over, holding her hand out. “What time is it?” She asked him.

“Just past eleven in the morning,” Harry said to her.

“Mmm.” She said as she took the phone. “Yeah. Faith.”

“Good morning, Faith. I’m calling to inform you that Mrs. Summers and her daughter have been successfully checked in at Saint Mungos. They arrived without incident.”

“That’s good. It’ll make B breathe a bit easier, I’m sure. I’m getting together with the rest of the crew later this afternoon. We’re gonna go over everything that we know about Glory and come up with a game plan. Want me to keep you posted?”

“Please do,” Quentin said to her. “I want it known that I believe you’re doing a wonderful job. The path of redemption is never easy, but you’re staying the course. We’re all proud of you.”

Faith was quiet a moment. “Thanks, Q. That means a lot to me. I promise I’ll try not to let you down.”

“I trust you, Faith. Have a good day. We’ll keep you updated on Mrs. Summers’ condition.”

“Thanks, Q. Talk to you later.” She ended the call and handed the phone back to Harry. “Joyce just checked into Saint Mungos.”

“She should be right as rain in no time,” Harry said, giving her a loving smile.

Faith stared up at him and ran a finger down his chest. “You know, when I met you back at the beginning of August, you were scrawny as shit.” She gripped his rather pronounced pectoral. “But you got some meat on you, now.”

He set the phone down and leaned over, giving her a kiss. “And you still look as fabulous as you did that day in the park.”

“As big a fan as I am of morning sex…” She said, kissing him again. “I gotta take a piss.” She rolled off the bed and made her way to the bathroom.

Harry watched her walk across the floor clad in nothing but a head of thick brown hair. He let out a sigh and lay back on the bed. “I’m a lucky, _lucky_ boy.” He said to the silence of the room.

 

Faith, Harry, and Sirius all juggled the Styrofoam containers from the Chinese Food restaurant near their hotel as they approached Giles’ apartment door. He’d called her cell about an hour ago, letting her know that the rest of the gang had shown up and were waiting for the three of them.

She reached the door and tapped it with her boot. “I hope everyone likes Chinese.” She said, looking at the collection of food.

“I don’t really know anyone that doesn’t,” Sirius said. “Every so often Moony brings it home. I’ve developed quite a taste for it.”

Buffy opened the door, giving Faith a bright smile. “Hey.” She said, happily. Even though her tone was light, Faith could see the underlying tension. Given how badly Faith screwed over the group in the room, she wasn’t necessarily surprised. “Here. Let me help you with that.” She grabbed a few of the containers off the stack Faith was carrying and moved them over to the dining room table.

Faith saw the collection of faces and knew that she was in for a long day. “I got Chinese if everyone is hungry.” She said, weakly. She looked right at Willow. “I remember you don’t eat pork if you can help it, so I got some Zucchini Chicken and some Teriyaki Chicken for you.” She held up a couple of containers. “There are also some spring rolls around her somewhere.”

Willow furrowed her brow. “You remember I’m Jewish?” The redhead asked her.

“Yeah.” Faith said, shrugging. “Look, Red, I-,”

“Ah, zip it,” Willow said, shaking her head. “Are you gonna go crazy and start killing people again?”

“Aside from Glory, no. Hadn’t planned on it.”

“Do you regret what you did to everyone?” The redhead asked.

“Every day.” Faith said, shaking her head. “I’d do anything to take it back. But I can’t. I can just tell you that I’m sorry. I’m sorrier than any of you can imagine.” She fought past the lump in her throat.

 “Good,” Willow said to her. “Because we’ve got enough on our plate with what’s going on right now. If you’re here to help, great. The more the merrier. But if you’re here to mess things up, Tara and I will turn you into a rat and throw you into the cage with Amy. You can keep her company until we’re ready to deal with you.” She narrowed her eyes. “And in case you start getting fresh with her…we do own a cat.”

“Jesus, Red.” Faith said, nervously chuckling. “And I thought you were the mousey one.”

“A vague disclaimer is nobody’s friend.” She said to the brunette slayer.

“I’ve got one question for you,” Xander said, rising to his feet to step up and loom over her. Faith never realized just how _big_ the boy was. She was forced to look up into his dark eyes. She couldn’t deny that, two years ago, she found him attractive in that sort of dorky way. Now, however, it seemed that he lost much of that dweebiness. He was very much born again hard. She swallowed as he glared down at her. He was quiet for quite some time. Everyone in the room held their breath. “Did you bring pepper steak?” He finally asked.

Faith couldn’t help but smile. “I got you covered, Xan.” She said, motioning the table. “It’s here somewhere.” She pulled him in and hugged him. “I’m sorry. I was so scared and thought I was alone.”

“You were never alone, Faith,” Xander said, holding her tight. “I just wish you’d have trusted us.”

Faith held him a moment, then let him go. She looked to Anya. “You’re a lucky woman.” She took the ex-demon’s hands. “He’s a great man.” She smiled brightly. “You break his heart, I’ll rip you apart and feed you to a Ghora Demon.”

Anya frowned. “How dare you threaten me.” She snapped. Her expression then melted into one of mirth. “I like you. That was clear, concise, left nothing to the imagination, yet was also very clever. You’d make a wonderful vengeance demon.”

“Nah. I prefer to do the venging myself instead of just outsourcing it. I like getting my hands dirty.” Faith responded.

“You know, I’ve met a few others that like the more hands-on approach. They do say it’s more fulfilling. I knew this girl back in 1439 in Rome that-,”

“ _O_ kay,” Buffy interrupted, stretching the word out. “Trying to _keep_ Faith from going all vengeance-y, so let’s stop with the shop-talk, shall we?”

“Don’t worry, B. I’m not that girl anymore.” Faith said. She then turned to Anya and gave her wink. The girl giggled as she nestled in closer to Xander. Faith then turned to Tara and knelt in front of her. “I also need to apologize to you. I made fun of the way you talk when I was cruising around in B’s skin…”

“Okay, Faith. There're a few things we’re not going to say anymore. And that’s one of them. When I was posing as Buffy, when B and I switched bodies, when I was hitching a ride on the B train…” She stopped as everyone in the room snickered and snorted. Giles merely busied himself with cleaning his glasses. “Okay, you can’t say that one either.”

Faith shook her head. “The point is, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made fun of you the way I did. I just wanted you to know that.”

“Th-th-that’s okay, Faith. I forgive you. You were still angry and scared back there and back then. I-I can’t really blame you.” She rested a hand on the slayer’s shoulder. “Thank you for apologizing. It means a lot. And I know it took a lot to do it.”

Faith nodded and rose to her feet. “Now, I’d like you all to meet someone. This is my boyfriend, Harry Potter.”

“Hello,” Harry said, giving the room a wave. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

“This rugged looking dude is Sirius Black.” She motioned to the black-clad wizard.

“Everyone.” He said, bowing. “And before anyone gets started, I’ve heard just about every joke that can be made about being named Sirius, so save yourselves the trouble.” He looked at Xander. “Especially you. You’ve the look of someone that would cycle through everything until you found something I haven’t heard.” He made a talking motion with his hand, then abruptly ceased its movement. “Don’t.”

Xander sighed and looked at Faith. “I was gonna, too.”

“Yeah, I warned him about you.” Faith said to him. “So I say we eat and get down to business.”

The group gathered around the table, dishing out food and chatting. It was obvious that there was still a bit of tension, but Faith didn’t feel particularly unwelcome. She had a long way to go before she would be considered anything close to _friends_ with the group, but she was, at the moment at least, accepted. And that was enough for her. 

Buffy gushed over what Faith had done for her mother. "There's this hospital in Britain that's gonna be able to heal up mom's aneurysm. She'll be good as new." She looked to Faith with adoration in her eyes. "I can't thank you enough." 

"Which reminds me. Q called this morning. Said your mom was checked in with little D. They made it okay. He'll let me know how things go." 

"Thank you, Faith," Buffy said, hugging her. 

Everyone watched the display and was beside themselves. In light of what they were seeing, none of them could really stay mad at the dark slayer. Of all of them, Faith hurt Buffy the most. To hang onto their petty grudges while the girl that had suffered the most was able to forgive seemed incredibly childish to all of them.

After lunch was consumed, Harry and Tara gathered the leftovers up and placed them in Giles’ fridge. Then they got down to the reason they were there.

“You’ve thrown down with Glory, right?” Faith asked Buffy. She was sitting on the counter between Giles’ kitchen and his living room.

Buffy nodded. “I've thrown everything I've got at her and she just shrugs it off.”

Faith grimaced. Given that she’d been on the receiving end of what Buffy could do several times, she seriously had a new respect for Glory. “ _Rad_.” She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Then we have to find something heavier to throw.” Willow offered with a shrug.

“Way to go, Red.” Faith said, nodding. “Given that B here weighs what? A buck-oh-five?”

 “Screw you! I weigh one twenty-one, thank you.” Buffy said. The room was suddenly silent. “None of you heard that.” She said, sharply.

Giles got back on topic. “As ingenious as Willow’s insight might sound, it might pose some difficulty. From what the Council's been able to discover from the book of Tarnis and, and, and other sources, Glory and two of her fellow hellgods ruled over…one of the more seriously unpleasant demon dimensions.”

Tara’s eyes widened. “There's more than one?”

Sirius nodded. “Stands to reason, one would think.”

Anya looked him and likewise gave an affirming nod. “There are thousands of demon dimensions. All different.”

“And pushing on the edges of our reality, trying to find a way in,” Giles added.

“Looks like Glory found a backdoor.” Faith said.

“The question is, _why_?” Buffy asked.

Giles sighed and shook his head. “There's nothing to indicate that here. Just…vague references to… to chaos and destruction.” He rose to his feet as the teakettle whistled.

Buffy got up and began pacing. “Okay, so, we know where Glory's from. What do we know about _he_ r?”

“Aside from being as tough as basilisk hide, not much,” Harry said. Everyone but Faith and Sirius looked at him with questioning glances. “Big snake. Hard skin. Long story.”

Buffy stared at him a moment longer, then continued. “Yeah, that. But what else? I mean no bolts of lightning, no blasts of fire…shouldn't a god be able to do that kind of stuff?”

“Actually there are a great many gods in the world’s pantheons don’t have any such powers.” Sirius pointed out. The group turned to look at him. “Not every god is Odin, Zeus or Thor you know.”

“Well, yes. Fair point.” Giles said, resituating his glasses. He poured himself and Sirius a cup of tea. “But be that as it may, with Glory, I believe being in human form must be severely limiting her powers. All we have to worry about right now is she's immortal, invulnerable, and insane.”

Xander held up a hand. “Whoa! A _crazy_ hellgod?” As Giles nodded, he groaned. “And the fun just keeps on leaving.”

“I feel you, Xan, believe me.” Faith said to him.

“I would appreciate it if you did indeed _not_ feel Xander,” Anya said, pulling him closer. “He’s mine, now.”

“I second that,” Harry said, nuzzling in close to Faith. “I’m the jealous type.”

Both Xander and Faith turned and gave their lovers a kiss.

“From what I've been able to gather, her living in this world is, is seriously affecting her mental state as well. She's only being able to keep her mind intact by, uh, extracting energy from us. Well, from, from the human brain.” Giles continued.

“She, she, she's a brain-sucker?” Tara asked. She and Willow both exchanged a look.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Harry said, immediately rubbing his scar. “I just got my brain back. I don’t want someone else fooling with it.”

Xander, Anya, Willow and Tara all looked at him with wide eyes.

Faith waved her hand. “Long story, don’t ask.”

“He had a dark wizard’s soul fragment in his head,” Sirius explained.

“Apparently not that long.” Faith corrected. “Don’t worry, baby. We ain’t gonna let her anywhere near your noggin.” She ruffled his hair and pulled him close, kissing the top of his head.

“According to this tome, she…” Giles read a passage. “Absorbs the energies that bind the human mind into a cohesive whole.” He looked about the room. “Once drained, all that's left behind is um,”

“Crazy people.” Buffy finished the statement.

Giles nodded, pouring himself another cup of tea. He offered the kettle to Sirius, who smiled and held his cup out. The Watcher went on. “Which is, I'm afraid, why there's been a marked increase in the ranks of the mentally unstable here in Sunnydale.”

“At least vampires just kill you.” Tara offered.

“Or turn you,” Harry added. “Not that that’s a more pleasant notion.”

“I don’t know. Super strong, super fast, immortal. Not a bad payoff if your life sucks.” Faith said to him. “Some people, believe it or not, are willing to make the trade.”

Xander, Anya, and Buffy all nodded. They’d seen people who wanted to be turned firsthand.

“We have to find a way to stop her,” Buffy said, still pacing.

“Nah, B. I figure we’d just let her do her thing and destroy the world. I mean, we are pretty bushed.” Faith said to her. “We know we need to stop her. Tell us something we don’t know.”

“You keep being a smart Alec, I’ll use your hard head to bludgeon her to death,” Buffy said, snappish.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Sirius said, out of hand.

The room snickered and snorted. “Hey!” Faith said, swatting him on the arm.

“I don’t mean Buffy beating her into paste with your head. I mean you and Buffy, combine effort against her.” He looked at Giles. “Do you know if she is weak against magical weapons?”

Giles looked in the book for a few seconds. “It doesn’t say, but…it’s the best idea we’ve had yet.”

Sirius looked at Harry. “You have the sword of Gryffindor.” Harry gave him a nod. Sirius then looked to Faith. “How are your sword fighting skills?”

“I’m pretty good with a blade. Better with a knife, but…” She suddenly remembered. “My knife is goblin forged.”

“Not magical, but near as makes no difference,” Sirius said. “Buffy, what about you? How’s your swordsmanship?”

“I can hold my own.” She said, nodding. “Did a number on those El Eliminati guys.”

Sirius looked at Giles. “You had El Eliminati in the states?”

“We did. Turned out they were working for Balthazar to retrieve his amulet.” Giles said. “You’ve heard of them?”

“In passing. When I was in Azkaban they were spoken about. Their numbers had dwindled in recent years.”

“They’re all but extinct now.” Giles offered to him.

Sirius nodded and turned to Willow and Tara. “The pair of you are witches, yes?” They both looked at each other then back to him and nodded. “Alright. Shielding spells.” He pointed to both Faith and Buffy. “Glory is said to be invulnerable. So we need the pair of them to be just as durable, if not more so. In order to take her down, we have little choice but to get in close and chip away at her. So Buffy and Faith have to be able to take what she can dish out. While they’ve got her occupied, Willow and Tara can work their sorcery to keep the pair of slayers alive. Meanwhile, Giles, Xander, and Anya can keep Glory’s minions from posing a threat. Harry and I will stay back and use our magic on Glory. We can guarantee successful contact.”

“So I’ll be carving her up with my knife while B chops her down with Harry’s sword?”

Sirius nodded. “It’s not much of a plan, I grant you, but it’s the best we got under the circumstances.”

“It works for me,” Xander said, looking at everyone.

Buffy bit her lip and looked at Giles. He raised an eyebrow, questioning. “Are you sure?” He asked her.

“They deserve to know,” Buffy said, solemnly. She sighed heavily and looked around. “We know what Glory’s after.” Everyone looked at her, expectantly. “She’s after a sort of key. It opens a doorway between dimensions and will allow Glory to get back home.”

“Why not let her have it?” Faith asked. “Let her get the hell out of here and be someone else’s problem?”

“Because if the doorway between worlds opens, an army of who knows what could flood through and wreak untold damage on our reality.” Giles offered.

“Always a downside.” Faith said, groaning.

“So shouldn't we be trying to find it before she does?” Tara asked.

“We, Giles and me, already know where it is,” Buffy admitted.

“You know…and didn’t tell us?” Willow asked.

“There were…reasons.” This from Giles.

“Look.” Buffy began, her tone belying the emotion she felt at having to lie to her friends, yet again. “I-if Glory knew that you guys knew where it was, I…” She swallowed and sank to her knees.

Faith stepped over and knelt beside her. “It’s alright, B. In your own time.” She said, rubbing the blonde’s back.

Buffy looked at her and smiled. She then addressed the rest of the room. “I didn’t wanna put you guys in that kind of danger.”

Xander frowned heavily. “As opposed to the other kind we're always in?” He was obviously annoyed.

“You should have said something.” Willow piped in.

“No, B’s right on this one.” Faith said, looking at everyone. “If it were just a vampire or some demon comin’ after you guys, you’d all be right. But this is completely different. Most of the time, you all can handle yourselves. And if things get too deep, B has usually been there to save the day. But if Glory got a hold of you, B wouldn’t be able to save you. She wouldn’t be able to protect you. And if she can’t protect her friends, then what’s the point of being a slayer?” She shook her head. “No, this time, she was right to keep this from you. No matter how bad it hurts, she still has a job to do. And making sure you guys don’t get dead is part of that.”

They all wanted to be angered, but they couldn’t. Because Faith had a point. Buffy was doing what Buffy did .She was protecting them. None of them would have been able to withstand the kind of hellish torture Glory was capable of for long. They all knew that.

“But I am telling you now,” Buffy said to the gathered group. She looked to Giles, who gave her a nod. “There's something that you all need to know…about Dawn.”

 


	31. Chapter 31

Faith stood beside Buffy, cracking her knuckles one by one. She stared out at the moon reflecting off the water of the Pacific Ocean. “I’m still not sure how to feel about that.” She said, absently.

“What’s that?” Buffy asked her from her position laying atop the hood of Faith’s Trans Am, leaning back against the windshield.

“Dawn. Not being a real girl. I got all these memories of her, but…” She turned to regard the blonde slayer. “None of them are real.”

Buffy sat up and looked at her. “She _is_ real, Faith. Whatever she was before this, she’s flesh and blood now. She’s my little sister and I’m going to do my damnedest to protect her.” There was an understandable bitterness in her tone.

Faith didn’t begrudge it one bit. “I understand, B. I’m not sayin’ I ain’t gonna go to the plate for her. Me, Harry, and Sirius are gonna do everything in our power to make sure she grows up and has a life. We ain’t gonna let Glory anywhere near her. Given that she’s in Britain right now, we’ve taken a pretty damn good first step.”

Buffy’s expression softened. She gave Faith a grateful smile. “I can’t thank you enough for that.”

Faith shook her head. “Just doin’ my job, B.” She turned back to the ocean. “Even with how much I screwed up, you’d have still done the same for me.”

Buffy dropped to her feet and moved up beside the brunette. “I owe you a lot, Faith.” She took hold of the girl’s arm and turned her. The pair met eyes. “I’m sorry.” She said, softly. “It’s something I should have said a long time ago.”

Faith furled her brow. “Sorry for what?”

“For judging you. For not letting you in. For not trusting you. For just…for how I treated you back then. You only wanted to share a part of my life, not steal it. Despite having friends and a family, I was still so alone back then. There really wasn’t anyone that knew what it was like to, to be me. To be a slayer. Then you came along. And instead of embracing what we could have had, I was too busy being shallow and wallowing in self-pity.”

Faith gave Buffy a dimpled smile. “It’s okay, B. I’m not the same girl I was then. Now, I can see the truth when I couldn’t before. You were in a pretty shitty place back then. You’d just gotten back from living on your own in LA. You still had Angel’s death on your mind. You had a lot on your plate. Then I showed up. A living breathing reminder that Kendra died. And it’s not like I was all that up front about my shit.”

Buffy continued to stare at her. “No, Faith. I should have tried being more friendly, at the very least.”

Faith shook her head. “You were, B. If I remember correctly, I asked you about taking out that dude with the rocket launcher. What was his name?”

“The Judge,” Buffy said. “Not sure what he was, but it was a whole ‘no weapon forged’ kinda deal. Well, they don’t forge the M136 AT4 Anti-Tank 84mm recoilless rocket launcher.” She sighed as Faith raised an eyebrow and grinned at her. “I’ve been spending way too much time watching action movies with Xander.” She offered.

Faith chuckled lightly. “But when I was asking you about that, Xander interrupted you and wanted to hear more about me. I didn’t think of it much at the time, but looking back on it, it was still pretty rude. That and he’s all talkin’ about me naked while Cordy was sitting right next to him. Kinda douchey, to be honest with you.”

Buffy cocked her head a bit. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do. It was the night we met.” She chuckled and buried her face in her hands. “God, what was I thinking with those pants?”

Buffy giggled. “They were pretty horrible.”

Faith peeked at her from between her fingers. “Yeah, says the girl that raided her grandmother's wardrobe for her outfit.”

Buffy frowned. “I did not!”

“B? You were wearing a calf-length flower print dress. You looked like you were  wearing your mom’s drapes.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Buffy said with a pout, crossing her arms as she did so.

“Well not as bad as my Technicolor pleather, but it was pretty awful, B.”

“I still have that dress.” The blonde slayer said, softly. “I like it.”

“That doesn’t make it okay. I like cheeseburgers. Doesn’t mean I can live on ‘em.” Faith said.

Buffy’s cell phone began ringing. She pulled it from her pocket. “Hello?”

“Hi.” Willow offered from the other end. “We found her.”

“Great. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” Buffy ended the call.

“I heard.” Faith said, moving toward the driver’s side. “Let’s roll, Kato.”

“Why am I Kato?” Buffy asked her. “You’re driving.”

“Because you’re short.” Faith said, climbing behind the wheel.

“You’re like, one inch taller than me.” Buffy groused.

“Inch or a mile, winning is winning.” Faith said with a grin. She fired the car up and sped off toward Giles’ flat.

Buffy just crossed her arms and continued to pout. “I’m not short.” She said, quietly. She glared at Faith as the girl snickered.

 

Faith leaned on Giles’ dining room table, staring down at the map of Sunnydale. “And we’re sure that’s where she is?” She looked at Willow and Tara.

“That’s what the location spell told us.” Willow offered.

Tara nodded. “The spell locates pretty much anything supernatural within the area. Each type of d-demon has its own specific color. We were able to easily d-dismiss vampires and most kinds of demons. W-we know Glory has henchman.” She put her finger on the map. “This is where the most powerful signature was coming from.”

Giles piped up. “I can’t think of anything that would be in town that would be able to outshine someone of Glory’s caliber.”

“Fair point.” Faith said.

“I know this place,” Buffy said. “It’s an old estate that belonged to the Frederickson family.”

Faith looked at her. “What happened to them?”

“They got turned,” Buffy said. “I had to take them out two weeks after I go to town.”

“The house has been empty ever since,” Xander said. “Lotta kids used to go there and hang out. It was never boarded up or anything. It looked like someone was maintaining it, but no one could figure out who.”

Faith shrugged. In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t really matter. “Alright.” She looked at Willow. “Can you scare us up some blueprints or floor plans?”

“I can do you one better.” The perky redhead said, smiling. “I can give you a virtual tour. The house is on the national historical landmark registry.”

“Good deal,” Buffy said, smiling.

“Pardon me for playing Devil’s Advocate,”  Sirius began. Everyone turned to regard him. “But why would we wish to leave the structure standing?”

“You’re not suggesting-?” Giles started to protest.

“Think about it.” The wizard paced the room. “Why would we wish to engage her with walls and doors that can separate us and disorient us? From my read in the landscape, Glory might not be right in the head, but she isn’t stupid. She would use her terrain to her advantage. Cutting us off from one another would be a sound strategy.”

For a moment no one spoke. “He’s right,” Xander said, finally. “Glory probably isn’t expecting a head-on assault. She’s gonna be surprised, but I can damn well guarantee you she won’t be surprised for long. She’ll react pretty quickly. The less advantages she has when she gets going, the better. Most of our magic users’ spells rely on line of sight anyway. So will mine and Giles’ weapons. Having walls and doors between us and her isn’t going to do us any good.”

“So we burn the house to the ground and wait for Glory to emerge. Once she does, we attack her full force with everything we’ve got.” Harry said.

“Probably the best way to play it.” Faith said, nodding. “Good lookin’ out.” She looked at Sirius.

“What about the authorities?” Giles said. “It won’t take long for emergency services to be called. We’d have innocents caught in the crossfire.”

Faith cursed, realizing that none of them had thought of that. “That’s a damn good point.”

Sirius raised his hand. “I can deal with that.” The group turned to regard him. “I know a few warding spells that won’t allow anyone not of a supernatural nature to see the building.”

“Explain that a bit more, would you?” Giles asked.

“Faith and Buffy are both slayers, so they can see through the wards about most magical buildings. There aren’t many in the states, but Britain is rife with them. Tara and Willow, being witches fall into that same category. The only two that might find it disconcerting will be you and young Xander, here.”

“How does it work?” Xander asked.

“Upon looking at the house, you will see nothing but an empty, run down home and believe there was something important you forgot to do. Given that I’m nowhere near powerful enough to make it permanent, it is a feeling that will pass with time as the spell wears off.”

“How long will we have?” Giles asked him.

“I can give us perhaps two, maybe three hours at the most,” Sirius said. “It’s a fairly difficult spell, but it would be necessary.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Faith said, nodding.

“Here.” Tara said, taking a large wooden box out of her pack. “W-Willow and I m-made these.” She set it on the table and opened it. Inside sat two small chunks of blue crystal with leather cords wrapped about them.

“What are they?” Buffy asked, lifting one to look at it.

“They’re protection charms. They’ll keep you and Faith from getting beaten to a pulp by Glory. You gotta be careful, though. They won’t last forever.” Willow said. “We put as much of our witchiness into them as we could.”

“How long will they be effective?” Harry asked, looking at them.

Tara and Willow looked at each other a moment before turning back to the pair of slayers. “We don’t know.” Tara offered, sadly. “An hour, ten minutes, who knows?”

“Well, that’s vague,” Buffy said, setting the necklace back down.

Faith moved over and hugged the pair. “Thanks for lookin’ out. We’ll just have to make sure we get it done quick.”

“Thanks, guys,” Buffy added, feeling somewhat sheepish that Faith beat her to it.

“You’re welcome,” Tara said, smiling.

Alright.” Giles said, looking at the map. “We know where she is. We know how to get there and we know what role we’re all to play.”

“Let’s gear up.” Faith said. “The world ain’t gonna save itself.”

“It should,” Xander said, bitterly. “Because, personally, I think the world’s gettin’ a little lazy.”

 

The large estate sat on nearly five acres of once gorgeous California property. Signs of meticulous landscaping and marvelous grooming still lingered. But most had fallen to ruin. The stone fountains and ornaments had been weathered and cracked. The forest surrounding the home had begun to take back the yard piece by piece.

The manor house itself, though chipped and grayed with age, was still the very picture of stateliness. Its large windows, its turn of the century architecture, and the intricate scrollwork trim was beautiful to behold. It was a testament to the excess of wealthy Victorian nobles.

The eight of them made the trek from the road to the house under the cover of darkness. They traversed the trees, picking their way carefully. Faith and Buffy had little to fear. With their senses attuned to the darkness, they could see as if it were high noon. The rest of the group, however, weren’t so lucky.

But even though the going was slow, they still made the journey in good time. Everyone crouched at the edge of the trees and watched the house a moment. A few lights were on. “Well, we know it has power,” Xander said. “Not sure how. Do you think Glory gets a utility bill?” He looked at the rest of them.

Harry snickered. “I doubt it.”

“Yeah. Because whether she's current on her electric bill is such a priority.” Faith said, staring at the house.

“Hey. Respect if she’s a taxpaying member of society.” Xander offered. “Crazy murderous hell goddess or not, at least she’s paying her bills.”

“And this is the part where you hush your mush,” Buffy said, putting a hand over his mouth. He gave her a nod.

Faith looked back at Sirius. “Alright, McGruff. You’re up.”

He nodded and rose to his feet. He pulled his wand and began a rather intricate movement of his arm. It wasn’t hard to determine whether the spell worked or not.

Giles suddenly looked to Faith. “Did I leave my Citroen’s lights on?” He asked her.

“No.” Faith said. “That’s the spell. That means it’s working.”

“I think I forgot to hit record for Top Gear on my TiVo,” Xander said, turning back toward the cars.

“You don’t have a TiVo,” Willow said to him.

“Oh. Well, that’s a comfort.” He said to her. “Nowhere to go and nothin’ to do. Story of my life.”

“You and Tweed just focus on me and B and you’ll be alright.” She then looked back at Harry. “Light it up, baby.” She said before kissing him firmly on the lips.

He gave her a smile and took off. He felt a little awkward in the heavy body armor and assault vest. He understood the necessity of it, but it still felt strange. He trotted quickly and quietly across the grass, taking cover behind hedges, shrubs and lawn features. As they’d all discussed, the chances of Glory posting sentries was highly unlikely, but a bit of caution never hurt. He closed the distance rapidly and knelt a few feet from the house. “Incendio!” He whispered, whipping his wand toward the large home. A gout of flame quickly began licking the old dry wood.

As the flames took purchase, Harry was again in motion. He moved around the home, casting the spell several more times. He directed his wand at various points, making certain that the building was well and truly engulfed.

He retreated back to the group’s staging point and knelt beside Faith. She gave him a smile and a kiss. “Way to go, baby.”

The house was ablaze in an instant. The heat of the California sun had baked the home year after year. And this particular summer had been a scorcher. Thus the colonial mansion was little save dry kindling to be eagerly devoured by the flames.

As the house began to collapse, the fiery detritus burst upward, sending a cloud of ash and debris into the air amid a shriek of rage.

The figure they’d come to this once proud Victorian dwelling to eliminate made her appearance. Glory stormed away from the house, turning to regard it. Within could be heard the pain and terror filled screaming of those that had sworn to serve her. She was strong enough to escape the inferno, but her retainers were not so lucky. “Son of a _bitch_!” Glory snapped. “I really liked that house.” She looked down at her burnt and tattered dress. “And all my damn clothes were in there.”

Tara handed the amulets to Faith and Buffy. “Once you put them on, th-they’ll start working.”

The slayers nodded. “Got it,” Buffy said as she and Faith slid them over their heads. They both tucked the crystals under their body armor.

“Time to dance.” Faith said, checking her knife.

Buffy likewise made sure the Sword of Gryffindor was secure. “At least Dawn is safe.” She said, softly. “That’s the most important thing.”

“You’ll see her again,” Sirius said, patting her on the shoulder. “The only thing standing between the pair of you is her.” He said, indicating Glory. “Go and get rid of her. We’re right behind you.”

“Stay down until we’ve got her attention.” Faith said. “Then unleash hell.”

“Be careful,” Harry said, pulling Faith in for a steaming kiss.

“A little late now.” Faith said. She turned and sprinted from the trees as fast as she could with Buffy in tow. The pair closed the distance in the span of a few heartbeats, moving silently across the grass.

Glory caught the sounds of footsteps drawing closer beneath the cacophony of the blaze. She turned just in time to catch Buffy’s sword strike across her chest. Blood shot from the wound. Glory had managed, through pure instinct to shift her body slightly to the side, turning a killing blow into a glancing shot. She felt the pain of the enchanted weapon. As Buffy ran past, Glory responded, clubbing the girl across the back, sending her flying from her feet to crash to the ground. Buffy rolled along the grass. Thanks to the charm Tara and Willow had fashioned, she wasn’t hurt.

Faith saw Buffy go down just before she attacked. Her knife lunged toward Glory’s skull. The hell goddess whipped her head back around to glare at the brunette slayer. She got her hand up to deflect the blade. The goblin forged steel, however, was up to the task and slid through the redhead’s hand. “Ow!” Glory growled. “That hurt, you little bitch.” She clenched her fist around Faith’s and did her best to crush the girl’s bones.

Faith wrapped her hand about Glory’s wrist trying to pry the woman’s fingers free. For a brief moment, the pair engaged in a test of strength. Glory glowered at Faith. “Who the hell are you?” She asked the younger warrior.

“Name’s Faith. The Vampire Slayer.”

“What the hell? There’s _two_ of you now?” Glory screamed.

“Get used to it, bitch!” Faith shot back. Of the pair of slayers, she was indeed the physically stronger. But she was absolutely no match for the hell goddess. The fact that she hadn’t gotten the woman’s hand to budge was a testament to that. She thought quickly and delivered a hard punch directly to the woman’s throat. Glory hacked but didn’t let go of the girl. Instead, she spun and hurled Faith by her captured fist. The brunette soared through the air and landed hard on the ground. She was dazed as the wind was blasted from her lungs. She felt no pain, but she was still uneasy.

Buffy was on her feet and again in motion. As Glory tossed Faith by the wayside, the blonde ran full force, running the woman through her spine with the venom-infused goblin weapon. Glory screamed and spun, wrenching the sword from Buffy’s grip. She snatched the girl by the throat and hoisted her from the ground. “I’m gonna crush your neck like a grape.”

The rest of the group had surged forward as soon as Buffy and Faith had engaged the woman. Giles lifted his crossbow, desperately looking for a clear shot. Xander, carrying an M-4 Carbine Assault Rifle that he’d hung onto for a rainy day was likewise drawing a bead. Neither of them had a line and cursed because of it.

As Glory lifted Buffy from her feet, Harry knew a spell that would aid them. “Get ready to fire.” He said to the pair. They both nodded. He thrust his wand forward. “ _Expelliarmus_!” He shouted.

Buffy was immediately thrown free of Glory’s hand. She watched in complete confusion. A moment later, an arrow cracked into her back. “Ow, shit!” She said, staggering forward. A heartbeat later, the stuttering rattle of automatic weapons fire punched into her spine. “Son of a bitch!” She roared. She turned to see the rest of the group in a semicircle. “Seriously?” She was again pushed back as Xander put a bullet directly into her eye. “Ow!” She covered her face with her arms.

“ _Sectumsempra_!” Sirius shouted, again utilizing the brutal curse. The magical attack collided with Glory, slicing a solid bloody line across her chest.

As she staggered, Faith and Buffy were both in motion. The brunette came hurtling in from the right as Buffy raced in from the left. Faith slammed bodily into Glory’s arm while Buffy caught the hell goddess at the knee. The redhead was sent flying into the air, spinning several times before landing head first on the grass.

Willow and Tara took each other hand in hand and held a palm toward Glory. “ _Restringo_!” The pair said in unison. The goddess stopped moving. Their hands visibly trembled from the effort of keeping the enraged woman bound.

Buffy and Faith immediately descended upon Glory, hacking and stabbing at her as hard and rapidly as possible.

The woman snarled and struggled against the force keeping her in place. “You fucking _bitches_! I’m so gonna kill you all!”

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” Faith said, jamming the blade down into her back.

“We need to end this!” Sirius shouted, stepping closer. “ _Avada Kedavra_!” His wand spilled forth sickly green energy. The force collided with the woman full on.  

Glory let out an inhuman shriek as pain wracked her form. In a bright flash of light, Faith and Buffy were hurled backward, hitting the grass and rolling several feet.

Everyone was rendered temporarily blind by the brilliance. As the smoke cleared, both Sirius and Harry were stunned beyond words.

Glory lay in the middle of the field, breathing heavily…and rising to her feet. “That… _HURT_!” She roared at the top of her lungs.

“It’s not possible,” Sirius said, in disbelief. “She…she can’t do that.”

“Well, she did,” Xander said, reloading a fresh magazine into his rifle. “And she’s pissed.” He emptied the clip into her. He might as well have been firing blanks for the all of the good they were doing.

Faith and Buffy were again on their feet. They rushed toward the woman, eager to put her down. They had been attacking full stop and were exhausted, but they had no choice. They had to down her, whatever it took. Faith’s knife bit into Glory’s ribs, burying itself up to the hilt. The enraged deity delivered a punch so hard that Faith blacked out from the sheer concussive impact of it. She wasn’t sure how far she flew. Her body hit the stone walkway near the front of the house with an audible _smack_. She lay there, struggling to breathe and clear her vision.

Buffy was right behind Faith. As the dark slayer was cast aside, she jumped, driving the Sword of Gryffindor down between Glory’s shoulder and her neck. Like the knife, the sword’s blade went in to the hilt. Glory spun as Buffy came down and caught the slayer with a hard back elbow. The attack hammered the blonde into the grass with enough force to cause Buffy’s teeth to rattle. Glory growled and lifted her foot to stomp down on Buffy’s skull.

“ _Flipendo_!” Harry shouted, whipping his wand toward her.

The redhead was thrust backward a few steps but managed to keep her feet. Buffy was given enough time to kick herself up, coming back to a vertical base.

Faith slowly got to her feet. She was so very, very grateful for the charm she was given. If not for it, she would have been broken three ways from Sunday. She staggered a step, then kicked into a run, rushing back toward the fight.

Buffy went in, engaging Glory fisticuffs. She knew she didn’t have the strength the goddess did, but thanks to Willow and Tara’s magic, she could take the punishment.

Glory was faster and stronger than either slayer and it showed. Her fists were like artillery shells as she bludgeoned the young blonde again and again. Buffy landed solid blows, but they did little damage. Then, all at once, the magic of Buffy’s charm failed her. Glory delivered a blow that cracked into Buffy’s jaw like a jackhammer. Blood flew from her mouth. Explosions fired off behind Buffy’s eyes. Her world went sideways as she hit the ground, unconscious. “About fucking time.” The goddess said a heartbeat before she was lifted from her feet and carried several yards. She was then thrust into the grass, face first. She felt a strong hand pressing on the back of her head, pushing her nose and mouth into the ground.

Faith wrenched her knife free and began attempting to saw Glory’s head off. Blood sprayed into the air as she cut. She didn’t make it far when Glory reached back and took hold of the girl’s hand. Even at the odd angle, she was of sufficient strength to throw the girl free.

Harry and Sirius both went into action. “ _Confringo_!” “ _Conjunctivitis_!” The pair shot out respectively. The woman screamed and clutched at her eyes as flames erupted along her body. She was thrown back to the ground.

Faith’s hand hurt like hell where Glory gripped her. Her wrist was badly broken and swelling quickly. That told her that the charm had lost its effectiveness. She cast a quick glance to see Buffy’s limp form rise from the ground and sail through the air toward the rest of the group. “Harry, get Faith clear,” Sirius said. “I’m going to end this.”

Faith didn’t hear the pair as she nodded and rushed back toward Glory. She took hold of the Sword of Gryffindor and ripped it free. She drew back to strike…

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_!” Harry shouted. With a swish and flick of his wand, he had Faith in the air before her blow fell.

“Everyone get back,” Sirius said as he stepped forward.

“What are you going to do?” Giles asked, curiously.

“Something that I am utterly mad for attempting.” The wizard offered.

“Get B to a hospital. We’ll finish this.” Faith said, clutching her hand to her chest. “Red, T-bear you go with ‘em.”

“We’re not leaving-,” Willow began.

“Red, _please_.” Faith said, pleading. “If she gets past us, you lot are second wave. We’ll do our damnedest. But if she gets by us, we need someone to stop her. And you two are just about spent.”

“She’s r-right, Willow,” Tara said, taking the redhead’s hand.

Glory was rising to her feet, deep animalistic growling could be heard from deep within her.

“Go!” Faith shouted.

Xander lifted Buffy in his arms and began trotting off toward their transportation. Giles, crossbow slung across his back and the rifle in his arms took point. Willow and Tara followed behind.

Faith and Harry turned back to see Sirius walking fearlessly toward Glory. “Your reign of terror ends _now_!” He snarled at the woman.

Glory turned enraged eyes toward him. “Is that a fact?”

He whipped his wand into the air. “That’s a fact.” He leveled it at her. “ _Fiendfyre_!”

Glory had seen much in her time. But all of it paled to what she experienced in that moment. Flames, bright as the heart of the sun raced toward her, taking on the form of a massive wolf. Before she had time to react, the fire washed over her.

Harry, for his part, was astonished. He heard of such a spell, but he’d never seen it actually cast. There was a part of him that didn’t believe it to be real, to be nothing more than a flight of fancy about the supposed _wonders_ of the wizarding world. How wrong he was.

Faith just grinned as the blaze engulfed the insane goddess. “Heh. _Fire_.” She said, joyfully.

Glory screamed as the flaming monstrosity burned her flesh from her bones. She believed her power to be unequaled on this earth. Now, she was learning otherwise. The pain she felt was without limit. Her mind blanked, her heart hurt, the fire seared her lungs as she drew breath to do nothing save shriek. Her world finally faded into nothing but white hot pain, then finally into the crushing black of oblivion.

The legacy of Glorificus, hell goddess, was nothing more than a scorched patch of grass amid the wilds of rural Sunnydale.

Sirius managed to dismiss the Fiendfyre and fell to his knees, exhausted. Faith moved forward and helped him to his feet. “That was seriously _metal_.” She said, smiling.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow but didn’t have the energy to rebut. The three of them made their way slowly to the car. All of them were in desperate need of rest.

“You know, compared to her, I don’t think Voldemort is that scary anymore,” Harry said, matter of fact.

“I can guarantee he ain’t as tough.” Faith said. She looked at her rapidly swelling and purpling hand. “Bet he ain’t that strong, either.”

“Let’s hope not,” Sirius said, his voice slurred.

           


	32. Chapter 32

Quinton Travers nervously paced the length of his office. His eyes continuously drifted to the phone sitting on his desk. He couldn’t remember a single time in his life when he was as anxious as he was at present. He’d left strict orders that all calls for him be immediately forwarded to his office without delay.

Faith had dutifully contacted him and let him know that they’d located Glory and what they’d planned to do to bring her down. With all he knew of the insane hell goddess, it was a long shot at best…but it was the only shot they had. That was hours ago. He’d been waiting impatiently by the phone ever since. He wiped the sweat from his palms onto his trousers.

The ring of the line caused him to physically start. He rushed to the phone and quickly lifted it. “Travers. Yes. Hello?” He stammered.

A soft feminine chuckle came back to him. “I didn’t know better, I’d say you sounded nervous, Q,” Faith responded.

He slumped down into his chair, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. “Faith. Thank god.” He was genuinely happy to hear her voice. Granted, if she’d had passed, he would have known almost immediately as a new slayer would have been called, but that didn’t mean he felt a sort of …fondness for the brash young slayer. Faith had been through a lot. And since reconnecting with the council, she’d committed wholeheartedly to her calling. As was evidenced by the rather intricate plans she had concocted to battle Voldemort and his menace.

Faith couldn’t help but grin. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn she heard actual concern in his voice. “You weren’t worried, were you?”

“I tend to get a tad tense when the literal fate of the world is at stake, Faith. Call it a quirk.” He paused a moment. “I’m glad to hear your voice.”

“Careful, Q. You almost sound like you give a shit about your slayer.” Faith chided.

He snorted, despite himself. “Sod off, Lehane.”

“Was that a joke,  I heard? You’re gonna ruin your rep as an uncaring douche, you keep this up.”

“Can’t have that,” Quinton said, jovially. “So I take it you were successful?”

He laughed lightly. “Wanted to let you know that we’re good. Glory’s history.”

“Is everyone alright?” He asked. “I assume you are since no new slayers have been called.”

“Buffy took a nasty shot to the dome. Nothing too serious. Just got her bell rung. She’s out of it right now. They’re letting her sleep through most of the pain. Glory bruised her jaw up pretty good. Slayer healing being what it is, she should be right as rain in a couple days. My wrist is a bag a gravel, but it’s coming along.”

“How is young Harry?” Quinton asked.

The question actually surprised Faith. “He’s good. He and Sirius both laid down a pretty good smack. Sirius was the one that actually finished her off. Some nasty as shit spell called Fiendfyre. It was brutal as all get out. Torched her ass.”

Quinton actually was familiar with the spell. It was very much akin to the Living Flame. “He must have impeccable control of he was able to utilize such a spell.”

“Yeah, McGruff definitely has it goin’ on.” Faith said, happily.

“I’m sorry. McGruff?” Quinton asked, curiously.

“Don’t you have McGruff the Crime Dog in the UK? Take a bite out of crime?” Faith asked him.

“I can’t say I’m familiar with the character.”

“That sucks. It was a pretty good anti-crime campaign, all things considered.” Faith offered. “And you know I’m a nickname person.”

“I’ve noticed.” Quinton returned.

“How is Mrs. S and Little D doin’?” Faith inquired. “I’m sure B is gonna wanna know.”

“We’d received word that she responded very well to treatment. She’s in perfect health. She and Dawn are resting in a small flat we keep on hand.”

“Thanks, Quinton.” She said, her voice soft. “I really do appreciate you guys coming to bat for us like this.”

He smiled, despite himself. “It’s the least we can do. You’ve done very well, Faith. You and Buffy both.”

“I’ve um, I’ve gotta ask you something.” Faith said, suddenly.

“Go ahead.”

“I want Buffy to come back to Britain with me. Just for a little bit to help out with the Voldemort bullshit. Having another slayer on hand would be nice.”

Quinton sighed heavily. “That leaves the Sunnydale Hellmouth unguarded.”

“Actually, it doesn’t.” Faith said. She’d prepared for this. “Have you been getting reports regarding a vampire named Spike? More importantly, what’s happening with him over the past year or so?”

He audibly groaned. “I have.”

“Then you know he can’t harm innocent people. But he can – and does – kill demons. If the Council’s willing to toss some cash his way, he’s willing to keep the Hellmouth secure while we deal with Moldy-shorts.”

Quinton wasn’t happy about the situation. Not one damn bit. Not only did it fly in the face of everything the Watcher’s Council stood for, but it also – on a more personal level – turned his stomach. It was sacrilege as far as he was concerned.

But with that said, he couldn’t, for a single moment, deny the good the blonde vampire had done in the city. Buffy, often times, seemed overwhelmed by what was happening. Quinton, in hindsight, had himself to blame for her recent struggles. He made the mistake once of denying support to one of Buffy’s allies, and it had cost all of them dearly. Buffy severed ties with the Watcher’s Council and never looked back. Giles still did his best to support her, despite having no backing from the Council whatsoever. And for almost two years, the pair had kept the Hellmouth secure.

The only thing that Buffy’s isolation seemed to prove…was just how superfluous the Watcher’s Council really was. It wasn’t a position he was eager to find himself in again. “I’m sure an agreement can be reached.” He offered, making no effort to hide the bitterness in his tone.

Faith could understand why he was so angry, she really could. No one fancied the idea of making a deal with the Devil to save heaven.

 

Buffy blinked and opened her eyes. She groaned at the brightness of the hospital room. “Now I know how Gizmo felt.” She said, putting her arm over her face. She sighed in relief as the shades were drawn, dimming the room a bit.

“How ya feelin’, B?” Faith asked her.

“Like I got punched in the face by an insane hell goddess.” Buffy returned, her voice slurred.

“If it makes you feel better, you probably feel worse than you look.” Faith offered.

Buffy moved her arm to look at her fellow slayer. “What about you?”

Faith lifted her left hand, showing the heavily bandaged limb. “She broke my wrist. I didn’t need surgery or anything. Neither did you. They just wanted to keep you sedated through most of the pain.”

Buffy nodded, touching her jaw. She could tell it was badly swollen. “Did we get her?”

“Yeah, she’s toast. Literally. Sirius used a pretty serious,” She stopped when she saw the smirk working across Buffy’s face. She sighed and shook her head. “He used a really powerful spell that incinerated Glory. She’s over.” She then grinned widely. “Your mom pulled through okay. She and little D are chillin’ in a flat in London, courtesy of Q.”

Buffy nodded. “That’s good news.”

“I was hoping to ask you a favor.” Faith said, biting her lip. “I know I ain’t got no right to ask for one, but,”

Buffy furrowed her brow. “You’re joking, right?” The blonde lifted her bed remote and raised the head up so she could look at Faith at eye level. “You came all the way to Sunnydale to help me out when you didn’t have to. You probably saved my mother and my sister’s lives, Faith. For god’s sake, you took on a _God_ for me.” She cocked her head. “How can you sit there and say you haven’t earned the right to ask me a favor? I’ll never be able to pay you back for what you’ve done for me.”

“You might not be sayin’ that when you hear what I’m gonna ask you to do.” Faith said, lowering her eyes.

“I don’t know. I think Harry looks like the jealous type.” Buffy said, doing her level best to keep her tone serious.

Faith furrowed her brow, looking at the blonde. “What?”

“You’ve both been together a while. I mean, I don’t wanna step on any toes or anything.” Buffy said, struggling not to smile.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Faith asked her, completely lost.

Buffy finally lost control and smirked. “Really, Faith?” She chuckled. “I mean, really? The one time I’m willing to engage in a sex pun and you don’t even get it?” She tisked and shook her head. “For shame.”

Faith stared at her long and hard, mulling the words over in her head. So focused was she on what she had planned to ask Buffy to do that she missed the rather overt cues the blonde was sending her way. “Oh!” She said, finally. “Well, that, I mean, that wasn’t what I _was_ getting at, but I, you know, I could definitely talk Harry into a little somethin’-somethin’.”

Buffy crossed her arms and shook her head. “Nope. Too late now. You have your chance and you blew it.”

Faith growled. “Well, that’s just bullshit.”

Buffy laughed at the slayer’s discomfort. “What were you gonna ask me?”

“You know, I completely forgot.” Faith said, leaning back in her chair and pouting. “Such bullshit. I’d wreck that ass.”

“You’d try to wreck this ass.” She reached over to Faith and tapped her nose. “And maybe someday, after we aren’t ass deep in alligators, I might let you.”

“Would you really?” Faith asked her.

“Never say never,” Buffy said, sincerely.

“Oh! I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to Britain with me and help us out with Voldemort? We could use another slayer in the ranks. The Watcher’s Council is willing to pay for Spike to keep the Hellmouth under control. And with Xander, Willow and Tara working alongside him, things ought to be okay for a bit.” Buffy raised an eyebrow at her. “Give you a chance to work with Angel again.”

Buffy sighed. “It would be nice to see him again.” She said, softly.

“Then you’ll come and help us out?” Faith asked. “I don’t know how long it’s gonna take, I’ll be honest. Tweed’s comin’.”

Buffy nodded. “I’m there for you, Faith. You did the same for me. It’s the least I can do.”

Faith grinned and hugged the petite blonde. “Thanks, B.”

“You’re welcome, Faith.” She looked around the room. “Where is everyone?” Faith bit her lip. “Faith?” Buffy frowned. “Where is everyone?”

“Xander, Willow, and Tara are at your house packing your things for the trip. They kinda knew you’d say yes. Sirius is with Tweed gathering his important stuff that we might need. Harry is downstairs in the cafeteria getting us some food.”

Buffy raised a brow. “You were awful presumptuous, thinking I was gonna agree to this.”

“I was just hopin’ B.” Faith said. She flexed her left hand, causing it to crack loudly. “That’s it.” She said, tearing the bandages off. “This shit itches like hell.” Her wrist was still a dull swollen purple, but it had faded massively since the fight yesterday. She rolled her hand about, causing several snaps and pops to issue out. “Aww, that’s better.”

“Gotta love the slayer healing.” Buffy offered. “Too bad jaw’s don’t heal as fast.”

The door suddenly opened as Harry, balancing a large tray in his hand, shut it behind him. “I hope you two are hungry.” He said, smiling. “Faith assured me that you’d be awake by the time I returned.”

Buffy smiled and moved the table over in front of her. “What did you bring me?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d be up to solid food, so I got you some clam chowder. I tasted it. It’s actually quite delicious.” He set down a rather sizable bowl. “I’ve got crackers as well.” He said, putting a few packets on the table beside it.

“Thank you.” She said, happily.

“You’re welcome.” He offered in return. He handed Faith a pair of Styrofoam containers. “I’ve got you two double bacon cheeseburgers and a large order of potato wedges. I couldn’t remember if you preferred ranch or sour cream, so I got some of both.”

“Thanks, baby.” She said, kissing him. She set the jo-jo’s down on the table. “Here, B. We can share.”

Buffy immediately snatched one up and dipped it in the ranch. “Thanks.”

Harry pulled the second chair over beside Faith and tucked into his club sandwich and crisps. He looked at Faith. “Did you ask her?”

“I did.” Faith said, smirking at Buffy. “But she said you look like the jealous type and she didn’t wanna poach.”

He stared at them in confusion for several seconds. Then, slowly, a sinister smile graced his young face. “As long as I can watch, I suppose it’ll be alright.”

Buffy looked at him in disbelief. Faith belted out a loud laugh. “You see why I love this kid?” She said to Buffy. She then pulled him in and kissed him. “Yeah, she’s willing to come and help us out.”

Harry was happy as a clam. “Voldemort isn’t going to know what hit him.”

Buffy watched the pair and smiled. Of all of the things she expected to see in her lifetime, Faith in a deep, meaningful, and loving relationship was never one of them.

 

Spike stood, looking dour in his black leather trench coat, smoking a cigarette. He was secretly happy for the arrangement the Watcher’s Council made with him. Three thousand dollars a month, a nice one bedroom apartment, an in with a local blood bank for his dietary needs, and Faith was willing to let him use her Trans Am while Buffy was away, provided he didn’t smoke in it or get it demolished.

Xander, Willow, and Tara were a little upset, but understood the reasoning and harbored no ill will over it. They were all willing to work with Spike to keep things secure. Giles left them the keys to his flat on the condition that they didn’t throw any parties and only used his place for research.

Once goodbyes were said, hugs were given and well-wishes were exchanged, the five of them boarded the Watcher’s Council’s private plane, heading for London.

The plane ride was quite long, so Buffy and Giles used the time to learn everything they could about what they would be facing. Harry and Sirius both filled them in on what they knew.

It was dark and raining buckets when they landed at London Heathrow. A large black Land Rover SUV and a like colored Ford Transit van sat on the tarmac waiting for them. The group quickly piled into the Land Rover while a pair of men handled their luggage and placed it into the Ford.

“12 Grimmauld Place,” Sirius informed the driver. The man nodded and took off. He flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror, making certain that the van followed behind.

The trip took a little over forty minutes through thick London traffic. They exited the rig and gathered their belongings. As the vehicles pulled away, Sirius turned back to the buildings. “Home sweet home.” He said, smiling happily.

After taking the time to get everyone past the enchantment on the dwelling, he pushed the front door open.

Every one of them was immediately assaulted by the sounds of a very, very heated argument. “Don’t boss me around, you backwater hillbilly bitch!” Cordelia’s sharp voice floated out of the kitchen.

“In this house, you’ll do as you’re told, young lady. I don’t care how old you are, I’ll bend you over my knee and paddle your rear raw!” Molly Weasley shot back.

“Try it, you overgrown lawn gnome and I’ll slap that curl right your ratty hair!”

“My hair is not _ratty_!” Molly screamed.

“I’ve seen better-groomed sheep dogs!” Cordy returned. “Now get out of my face before I _make you_!”

Faith sighed and looked at her surprised companions. “Yep. Home sweet home.”

Slowly, everyone turned to her, frowning.


	33. Chapter 33

Sirius massaged the bridge of his nose and groaned audibly. “I’d better go and put a stop to this before it _actually_ comes to blows.” He moved deeper into the home and down the hallway to the large kitchen. The rest of the group followed along behind, eager to see how he was going to calm the pair down. He pushed the door open to see Cordelia standing tall before the Weasley matriarch without a single shred of fear or intimidation. He had to give the girl credit. When Molly Weasley was angry, she could be downright terrifying. It was no wonder, given that she had to constantly keep Fred and George in check. “What is going on in here?”

“This ungrateful little _tart_ ,” “This loudmouth bitch,” Molly and Cordelia responded, respectively and simultaneously. They both turned and glared at each other again. “Don’t interrupt me.” Molly shot out. “He was asking _me_!”

“Funny, I didn’t hear a name mentioned. He could have been talking to me, you saggy old cow!” Cordelia responded, hands on hips. “This might be a shock to you, grandma, but not everything is about you.”

Buffy immediately leaned over and whispered into Faith’s ear. “That is _so_ the pot calling the kettle black.”

Faith snorted and sniggered. “No joke.”

Sirius caught sight of poor Remus sitting helplessly at the table. He seemed well and truly lost to the situation. Given that he was about as forceful a personality as a wet dishrag, he wasn’t necessarily surprised. The man would have absolutely no idea how to defuse the predicament. He looked at the group and shook his head, forlornly. “I’ve got nothing,” his expression seemed to say.

“Cordelia, Molly…sit down, please,” Sirius said, pointing to the table. The pair turned and stared at him. “Faith. Buffy. If you would, please.” He said, his voice taking on a stern edge.

Faith stepped up beside Molly as Buffy followed suit with Cordelia. “Take a seat, Molly. This is the house that Black built. Be respectful.” Despite just about everyone in the room, Faith knew how to play to Molly’s sense of etiquette. The Weasley’s may not be the richest and finest family in the wizarding world, but Molly and Arthur had couth. They had manners. And when you’re a guest in someone’s home, you don’t disrespect them. She blew out a breath and took a seat, resting her hands in her lap.

Buffy slid up to Cordelia. “Chill out, Cordy. It couldn’t have been that bad.”

The brunette looked down at her former classmate and back to Molly. She then yanked a chair out, as far from the woman as she could get and dropped down, crossing her arms and her legs. “Fine.” She said, sharply.

Faith looked around the kitchen and frowned. “Where’s Wes and Angel?”

“Angel is out looking for an old contact and Wesley is at the grocery store down the road,” Cordelia said. “The Watcher’s Council gave us a car to use while we’re here.” She looked at Faith. “It’s a new Land Rover. Wesley was beside himself. It’s actually pretty nice.”

“That’s cool.” Faith said.

“So,” Sirius said, taking a seat so he could see the pair of women. He then turned to Remus. “Would you be willing to show Mr. Giles to a room?” He looked back at the vexed ladies. “This may take a while.”

“I’m gonna go with him. I need a shower.” Buffy said, patting Faith on the shoulder.

“Of course,” Sirius said, nodding.

Remus shot up from the table, eager to be away from the calamity. “If you’ll both follow me.” He motioned to the door. Buffy and her Watcher gave one last look at the collected group and followed Remus out of the kitchen.

Faith and Harry both stood to the side with their arms crossed, leaning against the wall.

Sirius sighed and returned his attention to the problem at hand. “Molly. Without resorting to childish name-calling or barbs, tell me what prompted this.”

“This…” She bit her lip, doing her level best to keep a civil tongue. Faith was very much right in the fact that she would remain respectful of Sirius’ wishes in his own home. “Miss Chase came into the house a few days ago. She refuses to do any of the cleaning, she refuses to help with the cooking, she refuses to do, well, _anything_ to assist around here.”

“I would if you would _ask_.” Cordelia snapped.

“Keep it zipped, Cordy.” Faith warned the girl. “He wasn’t talking to you. You’ll get your turn.”

The fashionista glared at the slayer, but closed her mouth and remained silent.

“I shouldn’t have to _ask_ ,” Molly said to the girl. “If you’re a guest in someone’s home, you should take the initiative and offer your services.” Cordy just stared at her, waiting her turn. “See? You don’t even have anything to say to that!”

Cordy looked at Sirius with a raised eyebrow. “Cordelia?” He motioned for her to speak.

She nodded to him and looked back at Molly. “Your first mistake, bitch-,”

“I expect the same courtesy from you, Cordelia. No name-calling and no barbs.” Sirius reiterated.

“Fine,” Cordy said. “Your first mistake, Molly was seeing me and only saying ‘oh an extra pair of hands’.” She shook her head. “You didn’t even give me a chance to put my damn bag down. ‘I need you in the kitchen, dear’.”

Sirius looked at Molly. “Is that true?”

Cordy didn’t give the woman a chance to answer. “Oh, that’s just the beginning. Remus was nice enough to come to my rescue and told Molly here to at least let me rest up from the flight. All Miss Bossy britches here had to say to that was ‘Well, she’d best hurry, because I want the kitchen clean by dinner’.”

“Christ, Molly. You could at least let her shower and get a little bit of sleep.” Faith said, angrily.

“I had no problem with that. But I needed help and I didn’t see why she couldn’t provide it.” She looked directly at Cordelia, leaning forward. “You see, where I come from it’s called _pulling your weight_.”

“I understand that. But it’s also called common courtesy.” Cordy returned, likewise leaning up. “And over the past three days, you haven’t _asked_ me to do a damn thing. It’s always ‘Cordelia do this, Cordelia do that’.” She shook her head. “Just because you bark at your children like disobedient dogs that just pissed on the carpet doesn’t mean I’ll let you talk to me that way. That’s a good way to get the shit smacked out you.”

“I’ve been hit harder by bigger,” Molly responded angrily.

“Let’s see you say that with no teeth.” Cordy shot back.

Sirius groaned. “Well, this conversation is actually very much moot. Cordelia won’t be staying long. She’s going to be returning to Hogwarts with Faith and Harry tomorrow morning.”

Molly furrowed her brow and looked at the group. “What? Why?”

“None of your business, that’s why.” Cordy snarked.

“Cordy, knock it off.” This from Faith.

“She’s a Seer.” Harry offered. “She has visions. Professor Dumbledore is letting her take over the Divinations position from Professor Trelawney.”

Molly frowned and looked at Cordelia. “Aren’t you a little young to be a teacher?”

“She’s almost two years older than me.” Faith said, shrugging. “You’re cool with me teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Molly had to concede that. “I suppose.” She rose to her feet and smoothed her house dress. “Miss Chase, if it’s not too much trouble, would you be willing to assist me in getting the kitchen ready for supper? Some members of the Order will be here soon and I would like to have food on the table once they arrive.”

Cordy genuinely wanted to tell the woman to go to hell and that she had her chance to be civil and blew it. The Cordelia Chase of even just one year ago probably would have. But as the song said, _a little bit older and lot less bolder than she used to be_. She groaned internally, saddened that she even knew who Bob Seger was. _Thanks, Angel_ , she said to herself. “Sure.” She said, getting to her feet.

Sirius knew the peace was tenuous at best. But he’d take what he could get. “Very good. The rest of us would like to at the very least, get freshened up.”

Faith pulled Harry in and kissed him. “Let’s go grab a shower.”

“Not at the same time, you’re not,” Molly said, sternly.

“Ahem.” Sirius cleared his throat.

“It isn’t proper, Sirius and you know it. They’re both too young and too-,”

Faith wanted to interrupt, but it was actually Cordelia that leapt to their defense. “Please. Faith was banging guys when she was in Sunnydale two years ago. Being who and what she is, she’s kind of living on borrowed time. She has to live every day like she means it because she could be dead tomorrow. And Harry’s in the same boat. Let ‘em screw. It isn’t gonna hurt anything.” She glared at the woman. “Just because you aren’t getting any-,”

Faith actually did cut Cordy off there. “Bull _shit_ she’s not. Woman’s got like, thirty kids. She’s getting dick on the regular.”

“FAITH!” Molly screamed, turning beat red. “My sex life is-,”

Cordy backed up and put her hands over her ears. “Don’t wanna hear it, don’t wanna hear it, _so_ don’t wanna hear it!”

“What? The night after we got back from Harry’s trial you rocked Arthur’s world. Man was walkin’ bull-legged the next day.” Faith was being rather unabashed about the events, but she didn’t care. Molly had all but in name adopted the girl as a part of her family. Faith appreciated it beyond measure. And while Molly was rather embarrassed by the topic, the sparkle in her eyes couldn’t be mistaken. She remembered the night in question. And it was a very, very good night indeed. On Faith’s insistence, that evening had rekindled their relationship in spades. Enough so that Molly was grateful she could no longer have children, lest she’d have another bun in the oven.

She again smoothed her dress and hair. “Well, be that as it may, it’s no longer a topic for discussion. Cordelia and I will see to dinner-,”

“Do you even know how to cook?” Faith asked Cordelia.

“My family had a personal chef,” Cordelia said, smiling. “She trained me how to cook from the time I was seven.”

“Really? Cool.” Faith said, nodding. “So do you even know how to cook?” She asked again.

Cordy playfully slapped her across the face. “Go away, now. We’ve got work to do and you’re skanking up the place.”

“She’s right. We’re going to be busy.” Molly said. “Go on, shoo.” She waved them out the door.

“Can I trust you two not to destroy the kitchen and kill each other while we’re gone?” Sirius asked.

“We’ll be fine,” Molly said, looking to Cordelia. “I dare say that the young lady is right. More flies with honey. A little courtesy never hurt.”

Cordy threw her hands up in the air. “ _Thank you_! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for _three damn days_.”

Molly began turning red once again. “I’ll have you know-,”

Faith slapped a hand over her mouth. “Nope. We made headway. Not blowin’ it now. Cordy gets it. She needs to stop being a bitch and taking everything personally shut up Cordy, that’s exactly what you do. No denyin’ it.” Faith turned to her with a raised eyebrow, daring her to argue. Cordy sighed and nodded. The slayer turned back to Molly. “You just gotta ask. I know for a fact that if you ask, Cordy here will go to the ends of the earth with you. You tell her, you go alone.” She looked from one woman to the other. “We cool?” Cordy nodded. Molly did likewise. Faith pulled her hand away. “Don’t make me ground you two.”

“Get the hell out of here, Faith,” Cordy said, taking her shoulders and shoving her toward Harry. “You being reasonable and smart is freakin’ me out.”

Harry caught Faith in his arms and smiled deeply at her. The pair stood in a loving embrace.

“Can’t deny that,” Cordy said to Molly. “No matter how weird it might seem.”

Molly stared at the pair. She indeed couldn’t deny that the two of them were very much in love. It reminded her of when she first fell for Arthur. He was always the large somewhat dopey galoot he is now, but she found that to be rather endearing. Arthur always seemed to see the world through a child’s eyes. Everything around him was endlessly fascinating. Yes, some of his eccentricities rankled, but she couldn’t help smile at his antics. She loved him more than life. And she saw that love reflected in Harry and Faith’s embrace. They were from two very different worlds, yet the harmony found in their spirits couldn’t be ignored. They were almost mirror images of each other. Both had been through near crippling hardships, yet they’d managed to come out stronger, rather than weaker. But with that said… “I still think they’re too young to be having the relationship they do.”

Cordy had to concede that. Harry was only fifteen years old. Faith was his junior of just two and a half years. Harry wasn’t even close to being considered an adult, yet. And Faith was, but just barely. “But like I said,”

Molly sighed and nodded, turning toward the kitchen proper. “I know. It’s just,” She shook her head. “Children such as them shouldn’t have this kind of responsibility. It’s too much for them.”

“Well, Buffy and Faith were both called as slayers when they were Harry’s age. I killed my first vampire when I was sixteen.” Cordy said, taking a large sack of potatoes and a small knife. “I first noticed the supernatural stuff when I was a Sophomore in high school.” She chuckled. “There was this one time when I had an evil witch cast a curse on me that made me blind…” She worked alongside Molly, regaling her of life in Sunnydale.

Molly was somewhat heartened to know that it wasn’t just her family and friends that had to face down such horrors at such a young age. Her respect for the brunette grew by the minute as she listened to the girl’s tales.

 

Faith leaned back against the warm tile of the bathtub shuddering. Harry’s head rested against her chest as he drew in labored gasps. “Jesus tapdancing Christ, you just keep getting better and better at this.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile. He ran his fingers down over the curve of her back and took firm hold of her pert bottom. Thanks to the wonderful physical conditioning she put the entire class through, and the constant cardio workout of what Faith lovingly referred to as ‘bedroom calisthenics’ he had a grip like a vise. He gave her butt a hard squeeze. Faith groaned lustily and pulled him tighter to her. “You keep that up, we’re gonna grow old and die in this shower.” She said, softly.

“Not seeing the downside.” Harry returned, kissing between her full round breasts.

Faith chuckled. “Yeah, but I don’t dig on watching you get pneumonia because you were too busy fucking me under an ice cold shower.” She cupped his cheeks and looked into his eyes. “Eventually the hot water is gonna run out.” She gently pushed him back and stepped under the shower head, wetting herself down. “And I’m hungry.”

He took hold of the shampoo bottle and squeezed a good amount into his hand. “Blast this bloody infernal modern plumbing.” He began working the lather into Faith’s thick dark locks. “I’ve got magic. I can make the hot water nonstop.”

“You actually know a spell that can do that?” She asked him.

“I’ll bloody learn,” Harry responded.

Faith chuckled, then began moaning as he washed her hair. “God, I love you.” She said, happily.

Harry grinned widely. As he washed her, he couldn’t help but rake his eyes over what was his. “You are so beautiful.” He said to her. “In my wildest dreams, I never thought I would have a girl like you, Faith.”

She turned to look up at him. “I’m just glad you’re willing to stick by me, even knowing what I am.”

“I have a psychotic immortal dark wizard that wants me dead for no better reason than I was born at the end of July. It would be rather hypocritical of me to decry you for your calling when mine isn’t any better.” He moved her back to rinse the soap from her hair. “I might be a bastard, but I’m not a _fucking_ bastard.”

“That’s my baby.” Faith said, grinning.

 

Faith and Harry descended the stairs to see that Angel and Wesley had both returned. She moved over and hugged the pair. “Good to see you guys again.” Buffy and Giles sat at the table while Cordy and Molly finished up dinner. A few members of the Order were present. She recognized all of them from the last time she was there. “Where’s big D?”

“He can’t make it,” Sirius said from his place beside Arthur. “But he did pop in to meet the group.” He motioned to Angel and Wesley.

“Fair enough.” Faith said. She looked at Angel. “Any luck on the streets?”

He gave her a nod. “I’ve still got a few contacts here. None of them are in Voldemort’s inner circle, though. They’re all steering clear of him.”

Giles dropped a file folder on the table. “I didn’t have much luck, either. Whatever Voldemort is planning, he’s playing it pretty close to the vest. He’s keeping meetings secret and locations under heavy guard.”

Buffy took the information Giles had and opened it up. Kingsley Shacklebolt leaned over her, looking down at the papers. She peered up at him and frowned. “Invading the bubble much?”

“Excuse me?” He asked her, unsure of what she was saying.

“I have a bubble.” She said, before edging him back with her elbow. “You were in it.”

“My apologies. Usually around here, when folks say they have a bubble, it’s more…literal. May I see that when you’re done?” He asked, politely.

She handed it to him. “Sure. This is all stuff we already know anyway.”

“Sadly,” Giles said, pulling his glasses off and wiping them.

Soon everyone was eating as they talked. “Sounds like we need someone that can give us some top shelf intel.” Faith said, taking a bite of her casserole. “This is really good, guys.” She looked at both Cordy and Molly.

Everyone around the table nodded in agreement. The pair of women both smiled brightly.

“Pardon me for playing Devil’s advocate, but won’t Voldemort be on the lookout for that sort of thing?” Wesley asked.

“Yeah, probably.” Faith said. “We’ll just have to be careful.”

“How do you want to go about it?” Arthur asked.

“The Order is strictly intel. That’s the way you’ve been operating thus far. Under the radar. We’re gonna keep you there. Keep eyes on the Ministry and see about keeping Moldy-shorts’ influence to a minimum. Big D wants to keep drawing the Minister’s fire. That’s cool. It’s a solid plan. But these four,” She motioned to Buffy, Giles, Angel, and Wesley. “They aren’t attached to the Order, per se. They can operate outside the walls of this place because no one knows who they are. They got more freedom.” She leaned back and crossed her arms. “Harry and I are gonna be somewhat sidelined while we’re at school. Same with Cordy, here. We gotta get some names. A place to start. After that, I figure Angel and B can hit the streets and shake things up. Giles and Wesley start digging into Voldemort’s past.” She looked at the two Watchers. “Maybe hit up the Council or possibly the Coven in Devon and see if they know something the Order doesn’t.” The pair nodded. It was a rather good idea.

“That still leaves us with a rather significant problem.” Mad-eye Moody offered from the far end of the table. “How are we going to get these names you keep talking about?”

Faith grinned. “Let’s just say someone on the inside owes me a favor.”


	34. Chapter 34

“And there she is.” Faith said as she, Harry and Cordelia made their way up the heavily traveled dirt path from Hogsmead.

Cordelia looked upon the splendor that was Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. In all of her years traveling abroad with her parents, she’d never seen the like. She’d seen castles before, but the magical academy just seemed… _more_. It was everything she, as a child, thought the castle of a medieval king would look like. The towers reached into the heavens and seemed all too impractical for the shape of the keep. It was an awesome sight. “This is really cool.” She said. “And you guys _live_ here?”

“Yep.” Faith said.

“It’s quite an interesting place,” Harry said, smiling widely. “It’ll take some getting used to, but you’ll get the hang of it in short order.”

“You always were pretty sharp, C.” Faith admitted. They reached the gigantic double doors. Faith gripped the massive metal ring and gave a push. The door swung open with a typical horror movie _creak_. “Home sweet home.” The slayer said.

As soon as the three were inside and the doors closed, Professor Minerva McGonagall was there to meet them. “Welcome home, Harry.” She turned to Faith. “Professor Lehane.”

“Hey, Mack.” Faith said, offering her fist. The woman gave it a hesitant bump with her own. “This is-,”

“Miss Cordelia Chase. Yes, I know. I’ve been briefed.” The woman offered her hand to Cordy. “Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Chase. I’m Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. I’m also the head of House Gryffindor and Transfigurations Professor.”

Cordelia immediately looked the woman up and down, noticing first her rather significant height. She was tall and straight, with impeccable posture and an almost regal bearing. She also had the kind of voice that, while at present was warm and inviting, had the quality of someone who when they spoke, people tended to listen. The second thing she noticed was the way the woman was dressed. Her attire seemed straight out of the Victorian era and looked incredibly expensive. Cordy had to admit, the dark colors complimented the Deputy Headmistress very well. Last was McGonagall’s face. She had the look of a woman that didn’t take crap, regardless of who it was from. She knew her mind, spoke it often and expected as much from those around her. Cordy gave her a smile. She liked her already. “Thank you. I appreciate you reaching out to me and offering me the position.”

“You seem a girl that values honesty.” McGonagall began. “So I’ll offer same. I am uncertain of your ability to teach the children. Have you ever taught before?”

Cordy knew this was a possible question and knew exactly what to say. “No, I haven’t. But I do know the material. I have visions on a regular basis and have gotten pretty damn good at figuring them out. I’ve read the textbook and know it cover to cover. And I’ll work with Professor Trelawney to develop a good lesson plan to see what’s what. I’ll admit I’m coming at this a little blind, but from my read in the landscape, so are most of my students.”

Harry snorted, while Faith bit her lip to keep from laughing. Minerva flicked her eyes to Harry and back to Cordelia. “Well, we’ll just have to see. At first, I doubted young Faith here and she’s since worked wonders with the children. I’ll extend you the same courtesy.”

“I promise you won’t be disappointed.” Cordy looked the woman up and down again. “Normally, I would think something like this would be silly, but you wear this look _really_ well.”

McGonagall furrowed her brow. “I beg your pardon?”

“These colors work great with your pale skin. And the dark greens highlight your eyes. It’s a good look for you.” Cordelia said.

Professor McGonagall looked to Faith as if confused. “She’s a fashion snob. You’ll get used to it.”

Cordy took McGonagall’s arm and began walking beside her. “Now let’s talk shoes…”

Harry leaned over to Faith. “How long before she completely reworks the uniforms for the school?”

“Half hour, hour tops.” Faith said, lifting a pair of Cordelia’s bags. Not for the first time since carrying the girl’s luggage, Faith thanked her slayer strength for not throwing her back out in the process. Even so, she had to give it a bit of gusto to lift the suitcases.

 

Lucius Malfoy sat at the desk in his office, going over the notes he’d made over the course of the day. He started slightly at the rather sharp knock. “It’s open.” He offered, going back to work.

Faith stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She looked around and then settled her eyes on the man. “We alone in here?” She asked him. As he stared at her, she tapped her finger on her left forearm.

Lucius put his quill down and leaned back in his seat. “We are.” He said, his tone guarded. “I take it your trip to the states was fruitful?”

“Fairly, yeah.” Faith said, giving him a nod. She dropped into the chair in front of his desk. “Did the Watcher’s Council get in touch with you?”

“They did. I’m a little vexed, I’ll be honest.” He narrowed his eyes. “Where have they taken my wife? They let me speak with her, but they said she wasn’t allowed to tell me where she was.”

“Did they say why?” Faith asked him.

“Her safety, they said. That me not knowing keeps her safe.” He sighed, despondently. “It makes a great deal of sense, truth to tell. If the dark lord found out what I’m doing, there isn’t any limit to what he’d do to find her.”

“Exactly. He’d take her out just for you pissing him off. That’s why they didn’t tell you. If you don’t know, he’ll never be able to find out. But I can promise you that she’s safe. The Watcher’s Council has some pretty badass hombres at their disposal.”

 “I’m sorry, they have what?” Lucius asked in confusion.

Faith sighed. She stared at him for a moment. She knew that what she was about to ask him to do was putting the man’s life in danger. By proxy, Draco was also going to be on the chopping block. Thus, she felt she owed it to him to offer a little trust in return. “I’m gonna share something with you. You might have sussed this out on your own, then again, you might not have.” She blew out a breath. “I had Umbridge removed.”

“I gathered.” He said to her. “How, if I might ask?”

“What did your wife say when she was picked up?” Faith asked him.

“That several men entered the house by stealth, put a canvas bag over her head and absconded with her. They had her bound and put her in a vehicle and made off with her. She did make a point of saying that she wasn’t treated poorly. But the men weren’t exactly… _ginger_.”

“They had to make it look good to the neighbors.” Faith admitted. “You never know who is watching.”

“Granted. She wasn’t harmed, so thank you for that.” Lucius conceded. “Why do you ask?”

“The Watcher’s Council sent a group of… _extraction specialists_ to deal with Umbridge. Now, I want to point out that I don’t know what happened to her after that, but I do know that they came here, grabbed her and took off with her. She hasn’t been seen since.” She leaned forward. “I’m telling you this because I think it’s bullshit that I’m about to ask you to put your life on the line and not give you a little something in return. Believe this or not, I actually do like you, Lucius. Make no mistake, you’re an asshole, but you also get results. You give a damn about this school, you love your family. Yeah, I think you have shitty taste in friends, but two out of three ain’t bad. I kept your kid out of Azkaban, but now I’ve just handed you something that could be pretty damn damaging to my standing in this school. No one knows. Not even the headmaster knows completely what happened. I’ve never told him. I’ve never told anyone. The only thing I did cop to was that I called the head of the Watcher’s Council and told him about what Umbridge was doing and that he acted on his own. The truth is I did actually ask him to send the team he sent and to do what he did.”

Lucius took this information in with great interest. If word of this got out, there would be hell to pay in the Ministry. At that point, even the Prime Minister would have to concede that Faith and, by association the Watcher’s Council, were a collection of dangerous loose cannons that needed to be dealt with. He did have a sudden itch to rush to the Owlery with what he knew. But one thing stopped him. They had his wife. If he did indeed rat Faith out to his Ministry colleagues, he would never see Narcissa again. And if they had the manpower and potential to breach Hogwarts’ defenses to snatch up a staffer, then they could also do so to his son. That made him angry. He narrowed his eyes. “You know full well that knowing that information does me no good even if I did wish to act upon it.”

“How do you figure?” Faith asked him. He explained his logic to her. Her expression actually surprised him. She looked rather saddened. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about that.”

He stared at her long and hard. “No, you didn’t. You genuinely thought you were being generous sharing such a secret, didn’t you?”

Faith knew at that moment, she was seeing a side of Lucius Malfoy that few outside his family, would ever get to see. “I was trying to show some trust in you since you’re showing faith in me. I wasn’t daring you to act or anything. I wasn’t trying to piss you off.”

He gave her a nod. “Thank you for confiding in me.” He leaned forward. “But know this now. If any harm comes to my wife or son…”

“I gotcha.” Faith said, putting her hands up. “Terrible, horrible, no-good very bad things.”

“Just so we’re clear.” He said, leaning back in his chair. “So what is it you wanted me to do?”

“I think it’s time we start chipping away at your boss’s armor. You wouldn’t happen to know where he’d hiding, would you?” Faith asked.

“No. None save a very, very select few know his whereabouts. He’s not an idiot. He’s very selective on who he lets in on what aspects of his plans. Everyone has a part to play, but not everyone knows all of the parts.”

“Gotcha. Plans within plans kinda shit.” Faith offered to him.

“Indeed.” He said.

“Then I need a name. A name that’ll hurt him, but won’t lead us back to you. A name and a place.”

“If you want to strike at his power base, you should start with his _strongest_ supporters.”

“Who am I looking for?” Faith asked him. “And where can I find ‘em?”

“Fenrir Greyback. He’s a werewolf. A rather vile and disgusting wretch, truth be told. The world as a whole, Wizarding and Muggle alike, would benefit from his and his ilk’s passing.” He smiled brightly. “And I believe he favors south London this time of year.” His grin turned sinister. “Tourists for the holidays. A buffet line to someone of Greyback’s mindset.”

Faith’s smile quickly matched his. “Well, what do you know? That’s right up my alley.”

“Yes, I believe it is at that,” Lucius said.

“We didn’t hear it from you.” Faith said to him, rising to her feet. “Just wanted to let you know that at the end of the year, for summer vacation, Draco will be taken someplace safe as well.”

“Thank you,” Lucius said, his voice soft and appreciative.

 

Giles sat at the table in the kitchen of one 12 Grimmauld Place, sifting through the volumes he’d gathered from the Watcher’s Council’s library. Wesley sat beside him, comparing what he’d received from Persephone Harkness, the head of the Coven in Devon.

Angel and Buffy both paced back and forth behind the two of them. The sun was going be down soon and they were eager to do something. It had been three days since Faith had shared the name of their first target. For the past hour, Giles and Wesley had been learning what they could of the beast.

Remus Lupin’s words were still fresh in both the slayer and the vampires’ minds. _“Fenrir Greyback is, perhaps, the most savage werewolf alive today. He regards it as his mission in life to bite and to contaminate as many people as possible; he wants to create enough werewolves to overcome the wizards. Voldemort has promised him prey in return for his services. Greyback specializes in children… Bite them young, he says, and raise them away from their parents, raise them to hate normal wizards.”_ It was safe to say that Lupin shared no love for the man. Given that Remus’ life has been rather horrendous as a direct result of what Greyback to did to him made this not so surprising.

Giles had gleaned that the man had a rather terrible history and had been firmly on the Council’s radar for the past two decades at least. His list of victims was extensive. And the summation that the elder Watcher had obtained was just those that the Council knew about. Unofficial numbers place the man’s victims in the hundreds.

Wesley found the story much the same with the Coven. He’d even learned that one of the Coven’s previous number had been infected by the man and now spent the nights of the full moon in seclusion, fearful of harming another. It broke Wesley’s heart that, at the end of his conversation with the woman, whom her colleagues had said was once an outgoing and cheerful young lady, was now morose and oft times suicidal, believing her death would be preferable to constantly living in fear of harming those she calls friends.

Armed with that knowledge and, thanks to Remus, the vile werewolf’s location, Buffy, and Angel were both ready to act.

Sirius came into the kitchen and looked at the pair. “The sun has set and night is firmly upon us.”

Buffy looked to Angel. “So what do you say?” She offered her arm. “Show a girl around London? Maybe shop for a puppy?”

Angel grinned widely. “Don’t mind if I do.”

“Be careful out there,” Giles said. “This is a new city to you, Buffy. I don’t want you taking unnecessary risks.”

Buffy just smiled. “Come on, Giles. It’s me.”

“I know.” He said, going back to his research. “Thus the warning.”

“He just has to take the fun out of everything, doesn’t he?” Angel said to her. “Don’t worry, Mr. Giles. I’ll have her home by bed time.”

“I will hurt you,” Giles said, glaring at him.

“Go, Angel. But he’s right. Be cautious. This is a different game than we’re used to playing.”

“I would make some sports reference, but all you guys know is soccer, rugby, and cricket. And I don’t know squat about any of those.” Buffy said to them.

“I could teach you about them if you want.” Angel offered as they made for the front door.

“Or you could, you know, _not_ ,” Buffy said to him. “That’d be swell.”

“Just sayin’.” Angel returned.

Giles, Wesley, and Sirius watched the pair leave. “I believe Mr. Greyback is going to be in for a very unpleasant evening,” Giles said, turning back to the table.

Wesley and Sirius both nodded their agreement.


	35. Chapter 35

Buffy leaned against the large chimney with her arms crossed. One foot rested on the stone-tiled roof while the other was propped against the brick. Angel knelt by the edge of the building, his arms on his knees. For nearly an hour, the pair sat sentinel, staring down at the street. Buffy had to shift her stance several times. The chill of the London night was beginning to seep through her rather heavy clothing. Even though she’d known him for years, it still amazed her how completely and utterly still the vampire could be. _He hasn’t changed at all_ , she thought to herself. He hadn’t moved a muscle since coming to this spot. She decided to question what she was beginning to suspect. “Cordelia looks pretty good with short hair.” She said to him.

“You chose Riley, remember?” Angel said, not looking at her.

Buffy was taken aback by the statement. “He…”

“He left.” He said.

If Buffy didn’t know better, she could have sworn that she heard…

“Good thing he did.” Angel turned and looked at her. “When he did, it broke your heart. If I ever see him again, I’m gonna remove _his_.” With that, he turned back to the street below. “Any man lucky enough to have you should never let you go. No matter what.” He added the final three words very quietly.

 _But you did_ , Buffy said to herself. “He had his reasons.”

“Stupid excuses is what he had. A sister that you never wanted, never asked for, a mother dying and a raging Hell Goddess to worry about.” He rose and stood, arms crossed over his broad chest. “And he wondered why you were distant.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Selfish bastard.”

“Things were complicated,” Buffy said, softly. She still partially blamed herself for Riley leaving. If she could have only given him a reason to stay, he would have. But at the time she just didn’t have it in her. She was so very, _very_ tired. If not for Faith showing up when she had, who knows what she would have done?

“For you, sure,” Angel said, turning to regard her. “You’re the slayer.” He couldn’t help but give her a sideways smirk. “Sorry. _A_ slayer.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. Given that there were two of them, she couldn’t really claim to be the chosen one anymore. Angel took a little too much pleasure in reminding her of that. She wasn’t really too bothered by it, to be honest. “Ass.” She mouthed silently to him.

“But your life has always been complicated. Loving you has never been easy. It never will be.” He turned back to the street. “Riley knew that going into it. If he didn’t, then he’s an idiot. Either way, you’re better off without him.” Angel shook his head. “It just goes to show that he could never have been a part of this life. He could never be like us. No matter how much training he has, official terms he wants to use or how many nifty government sponsored gadgets he wants to carry around with him, he’ll never be a predator of the night. Not like we are.”

Buffy wanted to balk at the idea of being a so-called _predator of the night_. She was a lot of things, but she wasn’t… _Aren’t you_? She questioned herself. She remembered the words she’d said to Riley when she came clean about who and what she was. _“I’m the Slayer. Chosen One.  She who hangs out a lot in cemeteries?”_ She sighed and rubbed her face in her hands. She tried to remember when the last time was she’d spent the weekend at the mall. She tried to remember the last conversation she’d had that hadn’t revolved around the supernatural. She quickly realized it was a lost cause. For the past several years, the paranormal had become far less _para_ and far more _normal_. “Christ.” She said to herself.

“She does,” Angel said finally. “It suits her.”

“What?” Buffy asked, looking at him.

“Cordy.” He said, smiling. “She does look good with short hair. It shows off her face more.” He turned to the blonde. “I’ve always thought she was pretty.”

“Do you do this just to screw with me?” Buffy asked him.

He chuckled lightly and again looked back down. “Would I do something like that?”

“I should really kick you off this roof, you know that?”

“Oh. Game time.” He said, kneeling down. “That’s the guy my contact told me about.”

Buffy was quickly beside him. The man was tall, taller even than Angel with a lean athletic build and long sandy blonde hair. “He can lead us to this Fuzzy Grey-butt guy?” Buffy asked.

“Fenrir Greyback,” Angel said, before giving her a nod. “I think it’s time we go and introduce ourselves. I’ll do the talking.”

She nodded. “Not in the mood to talk, anyway.” She said before the pair of them stepped off the building. They both them landed in a crouch, bracing themselves with a hand on the tarmac.

The man in question stopped as the two dropped from, literally out of nowhere. It took a moment to realize who the two of them were. To the best of his knowledge, there wasn’t a supernatural creature alive that didn’t know the slayer and the vampire champion. “Oh, bloody hell.” He said, slowly backing away.

“Run and die,” Buffy said, her voice little more than a snarl. “Just in case you were wondering, that wasn’t a warning to stop.” She gave him a sinister smile. “That was an invitation. I can use the exercise.” She cracked her knuckles menacingly.  

Angel rose to his feet, whipping his long leather coat out behind him in grand fashion. He lifted his dark eyes to the man in a slow garish manner. “Hello, Charles.”

“I ain’t done nothin’.” The man said, after swallowing.

“That ain’t what we heard,” Angel said to him. “Word on the street you’re running with a bad pack.” He crossed his arms. “Let’s talk about that a minute, shall we?”

Charles shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” He began moving again. “I ain’t done nothin’.” He repeated. “Just mind my own business. Always have.”

Buffy was in his face before he could move three paces. Her fingers curled into his shirt and wrenched him to his knees in front of her. She clenched her other fist, causing her joints to pop. “You’re a werewolf. Means you heal really, _really_ fast.” She drew her hand back. “That is _so_ not gonna be a good thing for you tonight.”

“Fenrir Greyback,” Angel said. “You’re a part of his pack, tell me-,”

Charles shook his head. “Not anymore.” The man interrupted the vampire. “Me and most of the others left. Greyback ain’t got but a handful, now.”

Angel and Buffy looked at each other. “Why?” Buffy asked him. “I thought you furries ran together in merry old England.”

“We used to,” Charles said. “When it was just wizards, yeah. Just wanted an equal share, we did. But then _she_ came into the picture.” He shook his head. “None of us wanted to cross her.”

Angel furrowed his brow. “Who’s _she_?”

“The slayer.” Charles offered quickly. He looked at Buffy. “The _other_ one. Word has it she’s on the streets. And she’s on Potter’s side.”

Angel and Buffy again looked at each other. “Faith.” They said in unison. They each smirked.

“Seems Harry Potter’s found himself some,” Charles said, shrugging.

“Greyback,” Angel said, stepping up and looking down at the werewolf. “Where is he?”

“He’s looking for her,” Charles said, fearfully. “He aims to prove she isn’t as scary as people think.”

Angel snorted. “Then he’s dumber than he looks.”

“Tell us where to find him,” Buffy demanded. “You’ll tell us either way.” She pulled him closer to glare into his face. “How many bruises and broken bones you get beforehand is completely up to you.”

 

Fenrir Greyback exited the seedy pub nestled deep in the heart of Knockturn Alley. He was enraged beyond belief. In the span of a fortnight he’d lost nearly all of his wolves to, as far as he was concerned, a lie. Yes, he’d heard of the vaunted slayer. All of his subordinates were beside themselves with fear. They were petrified at the very _thought_ that she was in England. He growled and smacked the brick wall angrily. “Damn her.” He snarled. “I’ll show them. She’s just a girl.”

So wrapped up in his anger was he that he missed the approaching footsteps behind him. “That a fact?”

He was surprised by the sharp American girl’s voice. He turned, his eyes narrowed. He let out a feral growl as he did so. The form he was faced with almost made him laugh…if not for the extremely dangerous way she carried herself. She was _incredibly_ short, standing barely to his chin, with a head of luxurious blonde hair and extremely bright hazel eyes. She looked quintessentially American. She had her arms crossed over her narrow chest as she walked casually toward him. Though she appeared as innocent and unassuming as was possible, Fenrir didn’t miss the way she _moved_. _She’s a predator, this one_ , he said to himself. “Who the bloody hell are you?”

Buffy stared at him a moment but said nothing.

“You know who she is, Fenrir.”

The werewolf spun, his wand out. “Who’s there?” He asked, angrily.

Angel emerged from the shadows, slowly. “Don’t act surprised.” The vampire said, grinning with sinister glee. “Word on the street is you’ve been looking for her all night.” Angel pointed to Buffy. “There she is.”

Fenrir slowly turned back to the blonde. “The slayer.” He said, his voice barely more than an enraged snarl. He pointed his wand at her. “Do you have any idea what you’ve _cost me_?”

“Aww, what’s the matter? Rest of the Backstreet Boys kick you out?”

Fenrir furrowed his brow and cocked his head. “What?”

Buffy groaned and tilted her head back. “Ugh. Forget it.” She said, again glaring at him. “Yes. I’m the slayer. You wanted me. Well, here I am.” She held her arms out wide. “Now what?”

“Now you die,” Fenrir growled. “ _Avada-_ ,” He didn’t finish the spell as his wand was wrenched from his hand.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Angel said, shaking his head. He quickly broke the item in two. “We won’t be having any of that.” He tossed the pieces aside. “You get to handle things the old fashioned way.”

Fenrir snarled and lunged at him.

Angel landed a hard kick to the man’s stomach, hurling him back against the wall. The wizard fell to the ground, hard. His breath came in labored gasps. “I’m a vampire, friend. You don’t wanna get into it with me.” He thumbed toward Buffy. “She’s the one you want, remember?”

Fenrir looked up at him as he climbed back to his feet. He looked between the pair. “What is a vampire doing with the slayer?”

“It’s complicated,” Angel said to the werewolf.

“Why did I _know_ you were going to say that?” Buffy asked him. “It’s not really _that_ complicated.”

“Okay, Buffy?” Angel looked at her with a raised eyebrow. He then pointed to Fenrir. “Now? _Really_ not a good time.”

“Oh. Right.” Buffy said, rushing toward the werewolf.

Fenrir didn’t know what hit him. He knew the slayer to be strong and fast, but he didn’t expect _anything_ like this. The girl’s fists and feet were like blacksmith’s hammers. Her speed was beyond anything he’d ever seen in his life. He did his best to fend her off, but it did him little good. Bones shattered with every strike she landed. And she landed quite a few. His own attacks, feeble as they now seemed, never got close.

After a solid five minutes of Buffy pounding the ever living hell out of him, she backed off. He lay on the cobblestone street, coughing past the blood that filled his mouth. His breaths were coming out in gurgling wheezes. “So what now, slayer?” He asked her, his voice slurred.

“Now you tell me where Voldemort is. You tell me what he’s planning.” Buffy said. “Or I let you lie here and heal up.” She grinned. “Then we do this all over again.” She knelt and stared into his eyes. “I can keep this up all night long.” She shook her head. “I’m not even winded.”

“I know your kind, slayer. You fancy yourself a beast…” He chuckled but fell into a coughing fit. After he recovered, he again gave her a gruesome blood stained smile. “But you’re not. You’re no killer.” He looked to Angel. “Not like him.”

Buffy turned to her vampire companion. Angel stared daggers at the werewolf. “You’re right.” She said, turning to the wizard. “I’m not. I tried, though.” She sat down and leaned against the wall beside Fenrir. “Did you know that? I tried really hard to be just as hard, just as nasty as everything I fought with.” She turned to the werewolf. “Couldn’t do it. Just didn’t have it in me.”

“You heroes never do.” He said, spitting a gobbet of blood onto the ground. “No matter what you do, no matter how hard-,” His words were cut off as Buffy quickly turned, gripped his jaw and the back of his skull and twisted violently. Fenrir Greyback’s neck snapped in a series of angry cracks.

She rose to her feet and dusted her bottom off then rubbed her hands on her pants. “I couldn’t be like them.” She shook her head. “Because I don’t do humans.” She stared at the dead form on the stones. “Good thing you don’t qualify.”

Angel stepped up and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I know you didn’t wanna do that. But you had no choice.” Buffy turned to regard him. Her face was blank. “You know what he was, Buffy. You heard what Lupin said about him.”

For several seconds they stared at each other. Buffy finally spoke. “I wanna go and look at that Excalibur store we passed on our way here. They had a sword that looked really cool.”

Angel looked at her for a few more seconds, then smiled. “Sure.” He said, taking her arm.

 

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin sat in the kitchen quietly conversing when the front door opened and closed. They both rushed out into the hall to see Buffy and Angel standing there, shaking off the cold. The wizards were both heartened to see them hale and whole. “How did it go?” Sirius asked, taking Buffy’s coat.

“Fenrir’s dead,” Buffy said. “I killed him.” She honestly felt sort of numb. Part of her believed that she should be upset about the fact that she just killed a man. But another part of her, a larger part, knew that she’d done the right thing. Fenrir was a monster. He was the kind of man that used what he was given for no better reasons than to cause terror and pain. Remus had said it himself. Fenrir specifically targeted children. Children like Dawn. _No,_ _I did the right thing tonight_. She said to herself.

Angel could see she was bothered by what she’d been forced to do. Sirius and Remus both could also see the conflict in her eyes, hear it in her voice. Yes, she’d put on a brave front but at the end of the day, she’d killed a human being. Angel remembered several years ago, she’d made the argument to a werewolf hunter, one Gib Cain, that werewolves were human twenty-eight days out of the month. But this time, things were different. Fenrir wasn’t a man. He was a beast. He was every bit the monster that Angelus was. Not as dangerous, perhaps, but no less monstrous.

“You did a good thing.” Sirius offered.

Buffy looked at him. “I know that here,” She said, tapping her head. “But it’s still a little foggy down here.” She pointed to her chest.

“That’s because you’re a good person, Buffy,” Sirius said, smiling. “You have heart and compassion. Very few are those that can be a part of this world and not get ground down by it.”

“I for one feel much better knowing that Fenrir is gone,” Remus said, nodding. “His victims of choice were those that couldn’t defend themselves.” He shuddered as he thought about it. “To know that he’ll never again be able to do to another living soul what he did to me.”

Buffy sighed and nodded. She’d momentarily forgotten that Fenrir Greyback was the reason Lupin was what he was.

“If you are going to be with us until the end, Buffy, then as loathe as I am to say this,” Sirius bit his lip.

“I better get used to killing humans.” Buffy returned.

“No,” Angel said to her. “These wizards, they’re not humans, Buffy. You’ve dealt with the Initiative. Maggie Walsh was just as much of a monster as any vampire. What she created, what she unleashed was horrific in every way imaginable.” He looked into her eyes. “These people are worse.”

She gave him a nod. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna wuss out. When the time comes, I won’t hesitate.”

“I know you won’t,” Remus said, hugging her lightly. “You should get some rest. You look exhausted.”

“Actually, I’m kinda hungry and…” Buffy said, smiling at the pair. She looked at Angel and sighed heavily. “I need a shower.” She turned and headed upstairs to the room she occupied.

Angel watched her go, not missing the look of disappointment in her eyes. As he heard her door shut, he turned back to Remus and Sirius. “I need to talk to the pair of you about a spell…” He said, motioning to the kitchen.

 


	36. Chapter 36

Remus and Sirius both stared at the vampire intently. “What you’re proposing…” Remus let the statement hang.

“Risky, I know,” Angel said, leaning back in the chair. “But I have to do _something_.” He shook his head. “This curse is,” He growled and rubbed his face in his hands. “It’s a sword of Damocles that I don’t need hanging over my head. None of us do. Voldemort isn’t an idiot. It’s not going to take him long to figure out I’m in London. I’ve got a reputation, even in the wizarding world. A lot of the people he’d seek out to help him know about me. And it’s not outside the realm of possibility that he could find a way to release Angelus.”

Both wizards knew he had a point. Voldemort was a crafty one indeed. “Are you sure that’s the only reason?” Remus asked him. “Or is it something more… _personal_?”

Angel looked at him. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. “She deserves to be loved by someone that isn’t a monster.”

“You’ll still be a monster, Angel.” Remus pointed out.

Angel stared the werewolf in the eye. “You’re not.”

“Twenty-eight days out of the month, you’d be right. But for the three nights of the full moon that’s _exactly_ what I am.”

“Come off it, Moony,” Sirius said to him. “If you remember to take your Wolfsbane, you’re nothing of the sort.” The man then turned to Angel and reached out, resting a hand on the large man’s arm. “Love is the purest reason there is.” Yes, it was very much a cliched line, but that didn’t make it any less true. He could tell that Angel wanted desperately to be the champion that everyone saw him as. He wanted to be happy. Angel didn’t for a second believe that the curse placed upon him wasn’t wholly deserved. He had earned it through a century of horror and torment to countless victims. But the loophole that the gypsies had added was, to him, simply asinine. As had been demonstrated before, after a century of being made to feel remorse for what he’d done, when the demon took control, no one was safe. After so long, he was, if it could be believed, _more_ dangerous for having had to sit back and watch the soul within run the show. Because the demon inside was _angry_.

Now, he simply wanted the demon _gone_. And from everything he’d been told about the supposed Killing Curse, one of the three _unforgivables_ , it could do just that. Within Angel resided two souls. But the trick of it was…

“We still don’t know which of the two souls within would be cast out and which would remain.” Remus offered. “By doing as you suggest, we could inadvertently trigger the very event you fear.”

Angel nodded. “I know.” He said, nodding. “But sometimes the reward is worth the risk.”

Both Remus and Sirius regarded each other. It was obvious that Angel was dead set on doing this. Angel was very much the type of man that, when he’d made up his mind, his mind was made up. They had the power to do as Angel asked. Both knew the unforgivable curses well. The dark lord employed them without regard for anything even approaching restraint. So they could each cast the spell the vampire requested. And they agreed that removing a _possible_ threat was a sound move, no matter what.

But precautions had to be taken. If this went south, the last thing they wanted was for the centuries old vampire turning his sights on the pair of them. “I have rather sturdy chains in the basement,” Sirius said, looking at Angel. “You should be bound and secured before we attempt this.”

Angel nodded his agreement. “We have to try.”

“I’ll get the chains,” Sirius said, leaving the kitchen.

Angel watched him go and turned to Lupin. “You don’t seem particularly on board with this.”

Remus shook his head. “I’m not. I think it’s a dangerous game we’re playing. There are _a lot_ of unknowns that we can’t account for. We don’t even know if the spell will work. Even if it does, as I’ve said, we don’t know which of your souls is the most dominant.”

“Yeah, we do,” Angel said to him. “There’s nothing keeping me from killing people. There’s nothing to stop me but my own conscience. That I’ve gone over a century not drinking from a living person says a lot. You should remember that.”

Lupin stared at him. He did indeed have to concede that Angel was making the conscious choice not to give in to his demonic urges. Every second of every day he had to fight what he was. It was a battle that he’d been waging – a few weeks aside – for the better part of a hundred and twenty years. And credit where credit was due, Angel was winning. That fact did actually make him a bit more hopeful.

Sirius came back into the kitchen a moment later, heavy iron chains and padlocks in his hands. “Will these work?”

Angel took the chain and gave it a sharp tug. They were incredibly sturdy. “They should, yeah. They’ll at the very least slow Angelus down long enough for the pair of you to kill me before he can run amok.”

“Then let’s get this lunacy underway,” Remus said, rising to help secure the vampire. “Before reason sets in.”

Angel sat patiently as the pair bound him tightly to the chair. He was praying to the powers that be to give him this one break. He didn’t necessarily ask for himself. There was a beautiful blonde girl upstairs that had been nearly broken by the constant loss and pain of the past year. She’d lost a man that she had thought she loved, she’d lost her mother and nearly lost her sister. Buffy had shown a strength of character that Angel, to be honest, wasn’t sure he even had in him. So, more than anything, he wanted this to work. _For her_ , he thought to himself. _She deserves it_.

 

Buffy slowly came back to consciousness as she heard the door to her room open. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “That better not be you, Kreacher. I already told you I don’t want you sneaking around in here at night. I’ll clean my own room.” She stared into the darkness by the door. She reached over and lit the lamp that sat on her bedside table. She turned the wick up to see not the petite sour-faced house-elf, but Angel’s tall broad form. On instinct, she pulled her blanket up. “What are you doing here?” She asked.

Angel stepped up to the bed and stared down at her. He was silent for almost a minute just looking at her. His eyes took in every contour of her lovely face.

Buffy swallowed. “What?” She finally asked.

He reached out and caressed her cheek with his thumb. She closed her eyes and let out a ragged breath. That was one of the many things she loved about the aged vampire. His hands were powerful, yet soft. She missed feeling them about her in the night. She fought the urge to grasp his hand and nuzzle her face against it. _We can’t_ , she thought to herself. “Angel we-,”

“I’m alone now.” He said, softly interrupting her.

She looked up at him, furrowing her brow. “What do you mean by that?”

He pulled his long black coat off, tossing it onto the chair that sat in the corner. He began unbuttoning the black silk shirt, revealing his pale, muscular broad chest. “I have a soul, Buffy.” He said to her as he removed his shirt.

She frowned. “I know that.” She said, staring at his chest. She wanted nothing more to that reach out and… “Angel, stop.” She said, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “We can’t do this. You know what’ll happen. I can’t go through that again. _I won’t_!” She felt him climb onto the bed, straddling her slim legs. His hands ­– _so soft –_ cupped her cheeks gently. She felt his lips on hers. Without thinking, she immediately reciprocated the kiss. Her arms snaked their way around his waist, pulling him closer. _God, he can kiss_ , she thought to herself. The pair shared a long, sensual embrace. Reluctantly, Buffy came back to herself and pulled sharply away. “Angel, stop this!”

The large vampire was smiling. “You don’t have to worry anymore.” He said to her. “I can’t lose it again.” Buffy looked at him thoroughly confused. He took her hand and rested it on his chest. “I’m alone now. I’m just me. Just Angel.”

In that moment, it all came rushing in at her. If what Angel was saying was true… “There’s,” She swallowed deeply. “There’s no demon in you anymore?” Angel shook his head. “How the _fuck_ did you manage that?”

Angel snickered. “Channeling a little Faith there, were you?”

“She saved my family’s lives. Something’s bound to rub-,” She stopped herself as she heard Angel snort. “How did you get rid of the demon?”

“I’ll explain it later.” He said, reached down and taking a light hold of her pajama top. “I promise. Right now, I _need_ you.”

Buffy had never shed her clothing so fast in her life.

 

“No shit?” Faith said as she paced back and forth across her quarters. Harry sat on the bed, watching his girlfriend as she spoke with her fellow slayer on the cellular phone. “That’s fuckin’ awesome, B.” She grinned widely. “Please, for the love of all things holy, tell me you fucked his brains outs.” She listened a moment. “Hah! I knew you were freak.” She then stopped and stood, staring blank-faced. “You’re joking. Didn’t that _hurt_?” She snorted and nodded. “Yeah, he does seem the type. Not surprising, though, given the fact that he was turned by a four hundred-year-old prostitute. She’s bound to teach him some shit.” She sniggered again. “Sorry, B.” Another pause. “Well, obviously you rocked his world. He came back for another taste, didn’t he? Alright, I’ll shut up. Good on, B. You deserve it. I’ll yak at you later.” Faith ended the call and tossed her phone onto the nightstand.

“That was good news, I take it?” He asked, sitting with his arms resting on his knees.

“Yeah. Apparently Fuzzy and Moons chain Angel down and did the killing curse on him.”

Harry frowned. “How is that good news?”

“You don’t really know how the killing curse works, do you?” Faith asked, climbing back into bed with him.

“Just that it’s one of the Unforgivable Curses.” Harry offered.

“What it does is it tears your soul from your body. You’re left with nothing but a husk. Just a dead as hell corpse. Stands to reason that it would work the same way on a vampire.”

Harry nodded. “A vampire is just a dead body with a demon in residence.”

“Exactly. Except Angel is different. He has _two_ souls inside him. The demon soul that took over when he was turned and the soul that the gypsies cursed him with. The theory was that when the killing curse was cast on him, the more dominant soul would win out and get to stay put. You follow?”

Harry nodded. “But how did he know which soul was the more dominant one?”

“He got cursed before the turn of the century back in the nineteen hundreds. B once told me that Angel said to her that being an evil as hell vampire that didn’t give two shits about anything but killing people was an easy way to live. Being a good guy was the hard part. And Angel had been doing the right thing since then. That’s a century and change.”

Harry thought he understood. “So because the soul he was cursed with was the soul that he listened to the most, it was the more dominant of the two.”

“You got it.” Faith said, laying down and resting her head on her hand. “Angel knew a battle of wills with the demon inside was a fight he could win.”

Harry grinned widely at her. “So now we have a powerful ally that has no danger of being used against us.”

“Right.” Faith said. She reached up and gripped Harry’s hair, pulling him down to plunder his mouth with her tongue. “Now where were we?”

 

Giles and Wesley both stared at Angel and Buffy with a mixed bag of emotions. “You had no idea that would even work.” Wesley admonished the vampire. “It was a dangerous gamble.”

“A gamble worth taking,” Angel said. He sat against the head of the bed with Buffy nestled in beside him.

For her part, the blonde said nothing. She was still basking in the afterglow of the night before. The pair were up long into the night making love. She was sore as hell, but she felt better than she had in years.

As Wesley and Angel bickered back and forth, Giles stared at his slayer. He was conflicted, it had to be said. For everything that Angelus had done, he truly felt that the vampire deserved to suffer. He deserved to lust after what he should never be able to have. That said, however, Angel wasn’t the only one suffering. Buffy truly loved Angel. He believed that the relationship was as improper as was possible, but he couldn’t deny that it was real.

And while he believed Angel deserved his pain, Buffy did not. Having lost nearly everything over the course of her life, she _deserved_ some happiness. He actually respected Angel a great deal more for having taken this risk. While Wesley came down on Angel about the uncertainty of it, Giles knew the vampire’s true reasoning. Angel didn’t give a damn about his own suffering. Like him, Angel believed it wholly deserved. If Buffy hadn’t been in the picture, this little stunt would never have even been contemplated and Giles knew that. No, this was done wholly for Buffy’s benefit. It was almost a contradiction, really. Angel had managed to turn a selfish desire into a selfless act.

Buffy looked into Giles’ eyes. The pair gazed at each other intently. He gave her a soft approving smile and a nod. She beamed back at him. She knew what the gesture meant. Giles had finally forgiven Angel. He would always carry anger for what Angelus put Buffy through, but he would harbor no grudge toward Angel. He could finally come to terms with the fact that they were not one in the same.

Angel, meanwhile kept arguing with Wesley. “I _did_ know, Wes,” Angel said. “Because I know my own mind. I know my own heart.”

“Not when it comes to her, you don’t,” Wesley said angrily. He then looked to Buffy. “No offense, Buffy.”

“None taken.” She said, shaking her head. “But I’m gonna say this and we’ll consider the matter closed.” She looked him in the eye. “Deal with it.”

Wesley stared at her, indignant. “I think we need-,”

“Out,” Buffy said, motioning the pair out of the room. “Go on, get.” She shooed them both away. “I didn’t really get any sleep last night and I’m tired. He has a soul. It isn’t Angelus. Now go away.”

Giles sighed and turned to the younger Watcher. “You heard the lady.” He put a hand on Wesley’s shoulder and moved him toward the door. “Let’s give them some privacy.”

Buffy watched the pair leave. She then turned to Angel. “I’m not really all that tired, you know.” She said, winking at him.

“Didn’t figure you were.” He returned.

 

 


	37. Chapter 37

Faith started at the thunderous knock that sounded on her apartment door. She sat bolt upright. Harry still lay in bed beside her, sound asleep. He awoke when the knock came again. “What the hell?” Faith said, quickly getting to her feet. As always, a steaming hot cup of coffee sat on her nightstand. She took a sip and pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top. She was to the door when whoever it was knocked a third time. “Jesus Christ.” Faith said as she wrenched the door open. “What?!” She snapped at the early morning visitor. She was surprised to see Cordelia Chase standing and glaring at her. The girl was clad in a simple pair of sweatpants and a loose fitting t-shirt. Her hair was up in a towel and she carried a small travel case and a large garment bag with her. “What are you doing here?”

Cordy shoved her aside and went into her room. “Did you know that my room doesn’t have any damn electricity?” Cordy asked her as she looked around. “Good morning, Harry.” She said, not missing a beat. She spun to look at Faith. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“It’s in there,” Harry said, pointing.

“So why do you have power and I don’t?” Cordy asked. “For that matter, why doesn’t the whole school have power? This is complete crap.”

“Dumbledore wired the place before I got here. You were sort of a last minute addition. I could talk to him and see about getting you plugged in.” Faith offered, moving to her bed.

Cordy dropped her garment bag on the side of the bed and went into the bathroom. She pulled her appliances out and began working on her rather thick, luxurious hair. “Unless you want me invading your personal space every morning.”

“Yeah, I’m talkin’ to him.” Faith said, sadly. She looked at Harry who was grinning widely.

“Oh, another question. What the hell are those little things that skulk around my room at night? It creeped me out last night.”

“Those are house elves,” Harry said, smiling. “They’re harmless. They just clean and do maintenance on the castle and what not.”

“Yeah, all my clothes were cleaned and folded. My blouse was steam cleaned and hung up in the wardrobe. It was pretty nice, to be honest.”

“That would be them.” Faith said. “They’re industrious little guys. They even know how to make a good cup of coffee.” She took another sip of her Joe.

“I suppose I can live with that,” Cordy said as she teased and styled her hair. “I met with Trelawney last night.”

Faith grinned. “How’d that work out for you?”

“The woman’s a certified quack. She knows as much about Divinations as Willow knew about fashion.”

“Damn, C. That’s a bit harsh.” Faith said, grimacing.

“No less true. She showed me her lesson plans. It was really, _really_ pathetic.”

“So you think you can teach the kids better than she can?” Faith asked her.

“Oh, no doubt,” Cordy said. “I’ve already got lesson plans drawn up. I actually worked with…” Cordy stopped and leaned her head back. “Oh, god. What was his name? Snaps? No that wasn’t it. Snake, maybe?”

“Professor Snape.” Harry offered.

“Yeah, that’s the one. He’s actually really nice.” Cordy said, going back to work on her makeup.

Faith and Harry looked at each other with a look of pure astonishment. “I’ve never heard anyone say that about Professor Snape before,” Harry stated.

“No shit.” Faith said in agreement.

“Please. I’ve been working with Angel full time for two years. All he does is sulk and brood. Snape has nothing on him. You just have to know how to talk to him.” Cordy said as she looked at herself in the mirror. She nodded at her reflection. She moved out and lifted the garment bag. “I was up late with him just talking. He’s actually kind of interesting.” She looked at Harry. “He really had feelings for your mom. And apparently, your dad was a grade A jerk to him.” Cordy said as she pulled open the bag.

Harry glared at her. “My father was not a jerk.” He snapped. “Snape is just a bully.”

Cordelia shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you. Snape was bullied by your dad, Sirius, Remus and Peter Pettigrew. From how he tells it, they razzed him because he was friends with your mom.”

“I don’t believe that,” Harry said, shaking his head.

“He wasn’t lying, Harry,” Cordy said to him. “I used to be a complete and total bitch in high school. People change when they get older.”

“Snape’s always treated me like garbage.”

“He’s pretty abrasive, C.” Faith said.

“Well, he wasn’t to me. He was just a man that seems to be in a horrible situation that he doesn’t really know how to get out of.” Cordy said. “It’s kind of sad in a way. He made mistakes when he was younger and now he’s still paying for them.” She looked at Faith. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Faith narrowed her eyes. “I’m just saying, give the man a chance. You might be surprised.”

“I think we’ll stick to letting you sweet talk him.” Faith said, chuckling. She had no love for the man, but she figured if anyone could get through to him, it would be Cordelia.

Cordy pulled on her tight designer slacks, her navy blue low cut blouse and a pair of extremely stylish boots with a modest two-inch heel. “So how do I look?” She asked, turning about for the pair.

“Like a million bucks.” Faith said, nodding.

“You’re very pretty,” Harry said, likewise nodding his approval. “You make me want to try taking Divinations again.”

“You’ll learn more, I can tell you that,” Cordelia said. She looked at her watch. “I’ll get out of your hair.” She said, gathering her belongings up and moving to the door. “Thanks for letting me invade your bubble.”

“No problem, C. See you later.” Faith said.

Cordelia moved through the castle to the quarters she was given. Knowing what she did about the house elves, she decided to just leave her garment bag on her bed. She had to give credit where credit was due, she’d never, in her entire life, slept on a bed so comfortable. It did truly bother her that she didn’t have any electricity. She really hoped that Faith could make the same arrangement with Dumbledore that she had.

She left the room and made her way to the Great Hall for some breakfast. She wasn’t very hopeful if she were to be completely honest. Given how backwater everything seemed to be, she was banking on the meals being very much old-world fare. She wasn’t sure how she was going to deal with that. She was very thankful that she had as good a memory as she did. Hogwarts was very much a proverbial maze.

Cordy rounded a corner and stopped as she saw a trash can floating up near the ceiling. The snorting and giggling told her immediately what was happening. She’d been warned about the resident poltergeist. “Peeves, I swear to god you dump that trash can on me, I’ll banish your ass to the four winds.”

The ghost immediately showed himself, holding the bin aloft. “You don’t have the power.”

She glared at him and approached him, cracking her knuckles. “You wanna bet, you little troll? I grew up on a _Hellmouth_. I’ve fought and killed things, bigger, meaner, older and a _lot_ more powerful than you. And believe me, stumpy, you would _not_ be the first ghost I’ve tangled with.”

Peeves frowned at her, made a loud noise, similar to air being let slowly out of a balloon and raced off, tossing the trash can down the hall loudly. Cordelia watched him go and shook her head. “Never a dull moment.” She said, continuing on her way.

She made the hall the same time as one of the other professors. He was a rather short fellow, barely three and a half feet tall with wispy white hair and a bushy mustache. “Please, allow me.” He said, pulling the door open for her with a very bright, pleasant smile. “Ladies first.”

She had to admit, he was adorable as could be. “Thank you.” She said to him. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” She said, offering her hand. “I’m-,”

“Professor Cordelia Chase.” He took her hand and lightly kissed the back of it. “Everyone knows. Beauty such as yours brightens these dreary halls. I’m Professor Filius Flitwick. I teach Charms.”

Cordy actually blushed. “Faith talks about you a lot. She holds you in pretty high esteem.”

“A compliment to be sure. Young Faith is very much a girl that doesn’t impress easily.” Flitwick offered. He motioned into the room. “Please. Don’t allow me to delay you further.”

She smiled again at him and stepped into the room for the first time. Once again she was astounded by the display. It seemed like a page out of medieval history. She half expected to see the tables filled with armor-clad knights or fur-laden Vikings drinking with wenches in their laps. She strolled through the tables, smirking at the muttering she heard from the students. She made her way up to the head table and took a seat beside a veritable mountain of a man. She knew him to be Reubus Hagrid, the groundskeeper. He gave her warm welcoming smile. She returned it, not wanting to be rude. From what everyone had said, he was very much a gentle giant. He was supposedly a bit on the slow side, but with an affinity for animals that was second to none.

She turned her attention to the food upon the table and was very, _very_ pleasantly surprised. Fresh fruit, pancakes, and waffles of every size and description graced the surface in front of her. She happily gathered a plate with the fruit, a small waffle and added some orange marmalade to it. She decided to splurge and dropped a dollop of whipped cream on top. She looked about for orange juice and saw it sitting in front of Hagrid. “Pardon me.” She said to him. “Would you pass the orange juice please?”

“Sure, lass.” He said, lifting the carafe in his thick meaty hand. “Here ye’are.”

“Thank you.” She said, nodding. She poured herself a glass and set it down. “This looks really good.” 

“House elves make a mean meal, they do,” Hagrid said, sipping his tea. “How did ya sleep last night? Hope it wasn’t too strange for ya.”

“It wasn’t bad, actually. My bed is really comfortable. I had to invade Faith’s apartment to use my hair dryer. I’m hoping Dumbledore will be willing to get me hooked up with electricity like Faith has.”

Hagrid nodded. “She’s got some fancy stuff in that room, she does. Had the carry a lot of her furniture in there for her while she was stayin’ with Sirius.”

“You carried all her furniture? By yourself?” Cordy asked, looking at him.

“Aye. Wasn’t that hard. Tweren’t nothin’ heavy.” He offered with a shrug.

Cordy was astonished. Most of the things in Faith’s room looked rather sturdy, to be honest. She looked at Hagrid’s large, thick hands. _I’ll bet he could give a_ really _good massage_ , she thought to herself. “Well, that was very nice of you, doing that for her.”

Hagrid blushed and gave her a cheerful smile. Professor Flitwick, after having dealt with an issue among the students, took a seat directly beside her. She ate the rest of her breakfast, asking both Hagrid and Flitwick about the school, it’s history and its quirks.

Once her extremely delicious breakfast was finished, she bid both gentlemen good day, once again receiving a flirtation smile from Flitwick and returned to her office to retrieve her lesson plans for the day. She then made her way up the ladder into the Divinations classroom to see Trelawney sitting at the desk, looking truly miserable. The woman turned and regarded Cordy as she ascended the ladder.

Now, it had to be said, there was a part of Cordelia that truly did feel bad for the woman. She had been working at the school a long time and had grown accustomed to it. Dumbledore had shared that Trelawney did, in fact, have the supposed ‘Inner Eye’ and could see the future, so to speak. Granted, Cordy had visions far, _far_ more frequently and could actually do things to change the events she foresaw. That was what she felt her purpose truly was. And she accepted it whole hog.

But there was another part of her, a larger part, that despised the woman for the fact that for all the years she taught the class…she never _taught_ the class. Children under her tutelage hadn’t learned a god damn thing. And that, more than anything, pissed Cordelia off. When in high school, in classes with teachers that gave a damn, she did incredibly well. Those teachers that just went through the motions didn’t engage their classes and didn’t seem to take an interest in actually discussing the material, she was lucky to squeak by with a C. She’d always been an active learner. She was fairly certain most of the children in this class were as well. And she was going to play to that.

From what Harry, Hermione, and Ron had said about her, the woman just walked around the room, being cryptic and talking about Divinations and the ‘Inner Eye’, but seemed to truly know nothing of the subject.

Right now, however, Cordelia was not in the mood to deal with the woman. Under Dumbledore’s orders, Professor Trelawney was to sit in on her first class. Cordy didn’t see why, but she would do as he asked. That didn’t mean she had to like it. And that didn’t mean she had to deal with the woman giving her the evil eye all damn day. “You can stop with the thousand yard stare. It isn’t impressing me.” Cordy said to her. She moved over and wrote ‘PROFESSOR CHASE’ and ‘DIVINATIONS’ in beautifully flowing text on the chalkboard.

“I don’t believe you are qualified to teach this class.” Professor Trelawney said, her tone bitter.

Cordelia turned to the woman and opened her hand, revealing her empty palm. “Here. Go ahead. Take it.”

Trelawney looked at her bare hand. “Take what?”

“What’s in my hand. Take it.”

“There’s nothing there,” Trelawney responded. “Your hand is empty.”

“Exactly. This hand is filled with the amount of shits I give about what you think.” She moved over and set her bag down on the desk. “There’s a fact that you seriously need to start warming up to.” She leaned down to stare into the woman’s wide eyes. “You’re here right now because the Headmaster feels sorry for you. You’re here right now because you have nowhere else to go. No surprises there. But one thing you are _not_ is an instructor of children. Even when this classroom was yours, it was never _really_ yours. I’m not taking away the fact that you have the spark. You can predict things, and that’s great. But where you might have the spark?” Cordy leaned down closer. “I have an _inferno_. I actually use my gift to save lives, not to terrify children and make bullshit prophecies.”

“The prophecy is not-,” Trelawney began.

“Neither can live while the other survives,” Cordelia said to her. “Complete garbage.”

“It’s not-,” The woman again tried to offer.

“Is Harry Potter alive?” Cordelia asked.

“Yes, but-,”

“Is Voldemort alive?” The girl again interrupted her.

“He has returned and walks the earth, yes, but I-,”

“That means you’re wrong,” Cordelia said to her. “One hundred percent wrong. If your prophecy was accurate, then the moment Voldemort returned to the flesh, Harry Potter should have dropped dead. Or the spell to rejuvenate Voldemort shouldn’t have worked. Either way, you slice it, right now _both_ of them are walking around. That means your prophecy is utter trash.”

Trelawney just stared at the girl. She’d never, _ever_ had it put to her in that fashion. “I…I didn’t…”

“No, you didn’t,” Cordelia said, rising to her full height. “And that’s why your ass is being replaced. Because _I have_ and _I do_. Now get the hell up from my desk. Go sit in the back of the class and don’t be a distraction.” Dejected, the elder instructor rose to her feet and moved to sit in the rear of the classroom. Cordelia set out what she needed.

Not long after, the third year students, a few from each house, made their way up. She leaned back against the desk with her arms crossed and waited as they found their seats. She was fairly surprised with how small the class really was. She only counted thirteen students total. Everyone regarded her with wide eyes. They then turned to the back of the class to see Professor Trelawney looking utterly crestfallen. “Good morning class.” She said to them. “My name is Professor Chase.” She pointed to the board. “I’m assuming you can all read.”

“Good morning, Professor Chase.” The class said in unison.

“Nice.” She said, smiling. “Welcome to Divinations class.” She pushed away from her desk. “As of today, we start fresh. Forget everything you’ve learned-,”

“Not that bloody difficult.” One of the Slytherin students said, looking back at Trelawney.

Cordy snapped her fingers and pointed to the student. “Hey! Five points from House Slytherin. Cut that out. Regardless of how you may feel about former Professor Trelawney, you will still show her respect.” The woman gave her a thankful smile. “Now, as I was saying, forget what you think you know. Can anyone tell me what the definition of Divination is?” Several hands shot up. “You.” She said, pointing to a Ravenclaw student.

“The art or practice that seeks to foresee or foretell future events or discover hidden knowledge usually by the interpretation of omens or by the aid of supernatural powers.” The girl offered.

“Word for word from Merriam-Webster,” Cordelia said to her. “Very good. Now, can you tell me what that _means_?”

The girl seemed somewhat stumped. “To…to see or predict the future…with…powers?” She was wholly unsure.

Cordy made a sharp buzzer noise. “No, but thanks for playing.” She gave the girl a bright grin to steal the venom from the statement. “It’s about _observation_.” She pointed to her eyes, her ears, her nose, then held up her hands. “It’s about what you see, hear, smell and can feel. It’s about taking in absolutely _everything_ about the world around you to predict not the future, but predict the natural course of the world and universe as a whole.” She could see the children didn’t quite seem to get it. “Let me give you an example.” She indicated the Slytherin boy she’d taken points from. “You. Come up to the front.” He rose to his feet and moved to stand beside her. She reached over and handed him a piece of chalk. “Now, if he were to let this chalk go, what would happen? Show of hands?” She selected a student at random. “Yes?”

“It would fall and hit the floor.” The boy said.

“You’re sure?” Cordy asked him. He gave a nod. “Okay, let’s see.” She turned to the Slytherin student. “Drop it.” He did so. With rather rapid reflexes, Cordelia caught it. She looked to the boy that had answered the question. “Did it hit the floor?”

“No, but that’s because you caught it.” He offered.

“Exactly.” She said to him. “Divination isn’t about determining the future. It’s about assessing what you know of the world around you and trying to figure out what the most _likely_ outcome is. At any given moment, there are literally hundreds, if not thousands of things at work to change the world from one second to the next.” She pointed to another male student. “You. What did you eat for breakfast?”

“Pork sausage and potatoes, Professor.” He responded.

“What if you had eaten bacon and eggs instead?” She asked him. “What would be different now?”

“I don’t know.” He said to her.

“That’s right. You don’t. Most people don’t.” She looked at Professor Trelawney. “The good former Professor and I both share the same gift, more or less. We can actually see events before they occur and, through action or inaction change what we see. I’m betting most, if not all of you children can’t. In order to actually _see_ the future takes a specific gift. I, sadly, can’t teach you that. No one can. But, what I _can_ teach you, is to observe your surroundings, notice things that are going around you and teach you to spot others that will _claim_ to…” She stopped when the trap door to the class flipped open. A tall man dressed in black with long flowing platinum blonde hair entered the room, clipboard in hand. “Something I can do for you?” She asked him.

“Professor Cordelia Chase.” He said, his voice smooth and smug. “I’m Inquisitor Lucius Malfoy. I’m here to assess your… _adequacy_ as the new Divinations Professor.”

Cordy looked him up and down. The man literally _screamed_ money. It was obvious he was among the social elite of the wizarding world. Faith had told her all about him. In short, he was just another rich jackass that thought his shit didn’t stink. Cordelia had dealt with his kind all of her life. She knew just how to handle men like him. “Welcome, Inquisitor Malfoy.” She motioned to the chair behind her desk. “Would like take a seat so I can resume my lecture?” He gave her an accepting nod and took the proffered spot. “We were just discussing the true nature of Divination.”

“Don’t allow me to interrupt.” He said to her, motioning her to continue.

“Too late for that.” She said, giving him a smile and a wink. “But we’ll forgive you this time.” He couldn’t help but smirk in response. “Anyway as I was saying, no one can teach you how to actually _see_ the future. That takes a special gift. But that we _can_ teach you is how to _predict_ likely outcomes through concentration and observation. And we start now. Everyone get out your parchment and quills.” She turned to Lucius and stepped over, opening her lesson plan and showing him. “This is what I’m having them do,” She began quietly. “I figured you might want to see my reasoning.”

He was shocked that she was being so accommodating. When he’d learned that another muggle was coming to the castle, he was incensed. He truly believed the girl would be gone within the first few days. But as he looked over what she’d planned, he had to admit, he was fairly impressed. “You’re teaching them to utilize their senses instead of just having them read out of the text.” He looked up at her.

“There isn’t any point going over material in class that they should be studying on their own. And truthfully the book if full of crap. Reading tea leaves, keeping dream journals and all of that crap is great for sideshow charlatans, but it doesn’t _teach_ them anything that they can use. This way, they’ll be able to take what they learn here and use it out there.” She said, motioning to the walls of the room.

“Very clever indeed.” He said, nodding. “I’ll just relax and allow you to do as you will.” He looked at Trelawney. “I must say it’s a far sight better than the last to hold your station.”

Cordy chuckled but didn’t say anything. “Alright, children.” She said, moving back around her desk. “I want you to look around the room and list me five details about the room. And no, you cannot list walls, a ceiling, other students or their clothing, any of the staff members or their clothing. Nothing that would be considered _obvious_. You have thirty seconds.” She looked at her watch. “Starting now.”

The children dutifully scratched their answers on the parchment. She moved around the room, looking over some of the kids’ shoulder. She immediately reached down and lifted one boy’s paper. “No.” She said, tearing the strip of parchment off. “And stop.” She lifted the parchment up. “Everyone look at this, please.” The students did so and began laughing. The Slytherin boy that she’d called on earlier had written ‘Words, more words, more words, more words, and even more words’ on his paper. “This isn’t cute, it isn’t funny and it isn’t creative.” She looked at him. “Another five points from Slytherin. If you aren’t going to take this class seriously?” She pointed to the trapdoor. “There you go. This is a waste of my time, it’s a waste of Inquisitor Malfoy’s time, it’s a waste of their time, but more importantly, it’s a waste of _your_ time.” The boy looked properly sheepish. “Now take a few seconds and give me a proper list, if you would please.”

Malfoy had to admit, the girl had spunk. She took charge of her class and over the course of the session, did her best to impart knowledge on the students around her. When he left the classroom, he was quite satisfied with Faith’s choice of replacement for Trelawney. Not that he would ever tell her that.


	38. Chapter 38

“Good _god_ , mom,” Dawn said, happily bouncing out into the living room of the new flat. “You should see the size of my _room_.”

Joyce smiled brightly at her daughter. “Do you like it?” She asked the jovial brunette teen. She was overjoyed that the Watcher’s Council had been so generous. The apartment was already furnished with high-quality items as well as being tastefully decorated. Her and Dawn’s belongings had been packed up and shipped and now sat in boxes in their respective rooms and about the living room out of the way so they could unpack at their leisure.

“ _I love it_.” She returned. “What about yours?”

Joyce shrugged and moved over, pushing her own bedroom door open. It was large and lavishly furnished. “This is quite nice, actually.”

“Your room’s almost twice as big as mine,” Dawn said, stepping into to look around. She opened the doors along the wall, one after the other. “You got your own bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub and vanity and you have your own walk-in closet.” She came out of the closet pouting. “Switch rooms with me.”

“No!” Joyce said, shaking her head. “I’m a mother. The master bedroom is a perk of the job.”

“Well pooh on you,” Dawn said, running over and diving onto the bed. “We do have the same kind of bed. I got a really big Queen Size, too.” She began bouncing on it. “We should have a party to celebrate.”

Joyce moved over and pulled Dawn down off the bed. “We don’t know anyone in town, Dawnie. It would just be the two of us.”

“We could order pizza and watch movies,” Dawn said. “That would be fun, too.”

Joyce chuckled. “That does sound like fun, actually.” She motioned her daughter to follow. “I just wish Buffy wasn’t busy.” A sharp rap on the door caught her attention. She moved over and opened it as Dawn lifted the phone to order their dinner. She was shocked to see Buffy standing at the door. She frowned a little as she saw Angel standing beside her. “Buffy,” She said, pulling her daughter in for a hug.

“Hey, mom.” The girl said, returning the embrace. “Thought I’d come by and see how you and Dawnie are settling in.”

Joyce stepped aside and let her daughter in. She noticed Angel stop at the doorway.

“Invite him in, mom. It’s okay.” Buffy said to her.

“I live alone with my teenage daughter, Buffy. Neither of us can-,”

“You don’t have to worry, Mrs. Summers,” Angel said to her. “Things have changed.”

“He’s not your typical vampire, mom.” Buffy offered. “He has a soul, but he can’t lose it again.”

Joyce looked from her daughter to the vampire and back. “What?”

“Just invite him in, mom. I promise nothing’s gonna happen to you and Dawn because of it.” Buffy reiterated.

Joyce bit her lip and looked at him. She turned to look at her youngest daughter. Dawn was standing with the phone in her hand. “Are they staying?” She asked. She lifted the phone. “Pizza guy needs to know.”

“Yes, we are,” Buffy said. “Canadian bacon and pineapple. Extra pineapple.” She regarded her mother. She then motioned to Angel. “Mom?”

Joyce stared at him a moment longer. “Come in.” She said, softly.

He stepped in and met her eyes. “I know that took a lot of trust,” Angel said, giving her a smile. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well I’ve got two questions for you,” Dawn said, stepping up to him. “Do you sleep?” She asked him. He gave her a nod. “Good. Because if anything happens to me and my mother because we let you in here, you’ll wake up on fire.”

“Dawn!” Joyce and Buffy both snapped in unison.

“I can appreciate that,” Angel said. “You said you had two questions.”

“What kind of pizza do you like?”

 

Faith reached up and rapped on the door. “Enter.” She heard as a sharp reply. She entered the office to see Lucius Malfoy toiling over the paperwork that came part and parcel with his new assignment. He lifted his head to see the slayer step in. “Ugh.” He groaned before going back to it. “To what do I owe the pleasure of _this_ visit?” He asked her.

“Time for another link in the chain to get broken.” Faith said, dropping into the chair. “I can only imagine how pissed Moldy-shorts is with Fenrir getting dropped like a bad habit.”

Lucius finished writing and put his quill down. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “The Dark Lord is most displeased, it has to be said. I’ve not seen personally, but I’ve been kept in the loop, somewhat.”

“Does he think I’m doing it?” Faith asked him.

“I was asked about your involvement.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I didn’t reveal anything. I informed my former associates that you were here and had been the whole time. They’ve begrudgingly accepted that you aren’t the one responsible for Greyback’s demise. Lord Voldemort, however, does want the culprit found post haste.”

“I can imagine.” Faith said to him. “Does he have any leads?”

“Not that I’ve been made aware of. Given that Fenrir is a werewolf, none in the ministry care. Add to that the fact that most, if not all of the major ministry officials know of Fenrir’s connection with the Dark Lord, so they daren’t investigate the murder for fear of being seen as sympathetic to those in service to Voldemort, even by proxy.”

“So they aren’t looking into because A, Fenrir’s a werewolf and B, it would make them look bad if they scoped it out.” Faith concluded.

“For the most part, that’s accurate.” Lucius returned.

“Well, it’s time the rock the boat again. And we need a name with some serious weight behind it. Someone loyal that brings a level of badassery to the table. Fenrir was just the start.”

“Antonin Doholov. He’s quite a gifted wizard and would be a crushing blow to Voldemort should he be lost.” Lucius said. He jotted down an address and offered it to her. “This is where he can most often be found. But have a care. He’s a very, very dangerous man.”

Faith nodded as she rose to her feet. “Dealing with dangerous men is what we do best.” She gave him a wave as she left his office. “Thanks again.”

“Good luck,” Lucius said, lifting his pen and going back to work. “Woe be to me if the Dark Lord ever learned of what I’ve done.” He said, sadly.

Faith didn’t hear his silent prayer as she stepped out into the hall. She walked back to her apartment, pulling her phone from her pocket. She dialed Giles’ number as she strode through the halls. “Hey, tweed.”

“Faith.” He responded happily.

“Buffy around?” She asked.

“No. She’s visiting Joyce and Dawn. They’ve moved into their new flat. What did you need?”

“They like their new digs?” Faith asked.

“From what Buffy said, quite. Rather spacious flat overlooking Piccadilly.” Giles explained.

“Oh, _snap_.” Faith said, surprised. “That can’t be cheap.”

“I suspect not. But the Watcher’s council is footing the bill without complaint.”

“Well, without complaint to you or B. I’m betting the bookkeeper’s ass is puckered tighter than a snare drum having to write _that_ check.” Faith offered.

Giles chuckled. “Fair point.”

“I got a new name for our guerrilla war.” Faith said. “Antonin Doholov.”

Giles stopped what he was doing. “I’m sorry, what name did you say?”

“Antonin Doholov. From what daddy Malfoy said, he’s a serious heavyweight in Voldy’s clubhouse.” Faith paused a moment. “You know this cat?”

“We’ve met.” Giles returned. “And it wasn’t pleasant.”

“Do tell.” Faith said, stopping to lean against the wall. “I gotta hear this.”

“Before I’d joined the Watcher’s Council, during my university days, I dabbled in the dark arts.” Giles began.

“This the same time as that Eyghon shit?” Faith asked. “Buffy told me once upon a time. Said you had a wild, misspent youth.”

“Around that time, yes. Antonin and I met at…I suppose what amounts to a mystical kegger.”

Faith snorted. “You said _kegger_.”

“There were all sorts of goings on. Possession, rituals, incantations to heighten and alter perception and senses…it was a rather good time, but the risks, while worth it at the time, aren’t so much now. Long story short, he and I got into a bit of a row. He was such a bloody pillock. He was so smug, so arrogant. We were competing for the attentions of a young lady at the party. I’d known her for quite some time. Her name was Madeline. She was beautiful. Dark hair, bright green eyes and a figure that would make the Pope turn his back on his religion.”

“Damn. She musta had it going _on_.”

“Quite. I’d never really had the courage to approach her and decided, once I’d seen her there, that I had to try. That’s when Antonin decided to strike. He decided that he wanted her instead. I don’t really understand why given that he is such a blood purist and she was as normal as normal could be. Personally, I think it was just to derail my efforts.”

“So what happened?” Faith asked.

“I decided I’d had enough. I challenged him then and there. He gladly accepted. He was a bit older, but I didn’t think that would matter.” Giles sighed sadly. “I um, I wasn’t at my best and he, uh, he um-,”

“He kicked your ass, didn’t he?” Faith asked him.

“Rather handily, if truth be told. Magically speaking, at least. I was only dabbling in magic at the time and he was trained from a young age. Even before he attended school. His wand against my self-taught pseudo-knowledge? It wasn’t even close. He made a fool out of me. I left the party and never went back.”

“Did she go home with him?” She asked.

Giles growled. “She did.” He took an unsteady breath. “She was um, she was found in a park near the top of the North Circular. She was just dead. There was no sign of a struggle. She was laying on a park bench not breathing and not moving. She’d been dead for hours.”

“That’s some bullshit. Cops ever say what caused it?” Faith asked.

“They believe it was an allergic reaction to something. There was nothing else to go on.”

“You think Antonin had something to do with it?” Faith asked.

“I’ll bet my life on it,” Giles said. “I was young and stupid then.”    

“But things change.” Faith said to him.

“Yes,” Giles said, nodding. “Things change indeed.”

She read off the address. “Well pass the info on to the street team, would you?” Faith asked him.

“I believe I will handle this one personally,” Giles said, his eyes narrow. “It’s a long time, coming, I think.”

Faith trusted Giles. Probably more than anyone else, truth to tell. “If you think you got this, then I’ll let it rest with you. Good luck.”

“I’ll be cautious.” Giles returned. “Thank you, Faith.”

“Later, G.” She said, before ending the call.

Giles rose to his feet and moved from the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, gathering his jacket. “Where are you going?” Wesley asked from the stairwell.

The elder Watcher briefly considered not telling him. Fresh in his mind was the last time he’d served alongside the younger man. Wesley never filled him with a great deal of confidence. But with that said, word had it that he’d changed a great deal while in Los Angeles. He was a trusted member of Angel Investigations and had served the group quite well. He weighed it over in his mind. He very well might need help handling Antonin. And if nothing else, having _two_ targets was better than one. “Faith called. She has another of Voldemort’s followers that needs to be dealt with. It would be a proverbial body blow if we can remove him from the playing field.”

“And what? You’re going to pick Buffy and Angel up from her mother’s?”

“No.” Was all Giles said.

Wesley stared deeply into his counterpart’s eyes. “You’re going after him yourself.”

“We have history.” Giles offered. “And there’s a debt that needs settling between us.”

“Well, you’re not going alone,” Wesley said. “Give me a moment.” He turned and trotted back up the stairs. A couple minutes later, he came back down, wearing a leather jacket and carrying a duffel with him. “We need to be prepared.”

Giles gave him a nod and turned to head out. “We shouldn’t kill him,” Wesley said as they drove away from the townhome. Giles narrowed his eyes and looked at the man. “Hear me out.” When the elder Watcher sighed and turned back to the road, Wesley went on. “He may very well have information regarding Voldemort’s inner circle that Lucius may not have. Remember, at present, Lucius claimed he doesn’t know where Voldemort is hiding. This man may have that information.”

Giles groaned out loud. He knew Wesley was right. But there was a problem. “This isn’t the kind of man that’s going to go quietly, Wesley. He’s going to resist.”

Wesley reached into his duffel and pulled a tranquilizer pistol. “A few shots with this and he won’t be resisting at all.”

Giles saw the gun and grinned widely. “This is going to be a fairly good evening, I think.”

 

Antonin awoke with a start as he felt a sharp pain across his left cheek. He groaned and blinked his eyes open. His head ached beyond anything he’d ever felt. He went to lift his hands with the intention of rubbing his eyes and quickly realized he couldn’t. “What?” He said, raspily. He struggled to find himself firmly bound. His hands and feet were secured. He immediately recognized a torture rack when he saw one…or felt one, as the case was. “What’s the meaning of this?” He asked over the softly pounding bass in the distance. His eyes settled on a man that stood in front of him clad in a dark button down shirt over his broad chest. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal his corded forearms. He had a pair of black fingerless gloves over his large hands. “Who are you?”

“You don’t remember, do you?” Giles asked him. He pulled his glasses off and tossed them onto the small table on the side of the room. “Her name was Madeline.”

Antonin stared at him a moment, narrowing his eyes on Giles’ face. “You’re that uppity little burke that thought he was a big deal.” His face was quickly rocked to the side as Giles’ fist crashed into his cheek.

“Nice to see your brain hasn’t addled,” Giles said as he stepped back. Antonin glared at him. Giles reached back and pulled a long thin rod from his pocket. Antonin’s eyes immediately widened as he saw his wand in Giles’ hands. “Let’s make sure you’re unarmed before we continue, shall we?” With a quick motion, he snapped the wand in two. He casually tossed the pieces aside. “Now that that’s over.”

Antonin cleared his throat and glared at the man. “What do you want?”

“Ultimately? To kill you.” Giles said. “For what you did to her.”

“What was she to you?” The wizard asked.

“At that moment? A friend. But because of you, I never got the chance to know if she could have been more.” He moved over and lifted a rather mundane looking saw from the assembled tools set out on the table. “But take heart, Mr. Doholov. I’m not going to kill you. I’ll leave that particular pleasure for your boss.” He stepped over to the man’s right arm. He motioned to Voldemort’s mark upon the man’s flesh. “At this moment, however, I don’t want your employer to know that we’re having a meeting.” Giles placed the saw against Antonin’s arm at the elbow. He smiled as he saw the look of terror on the man’s face. “Oh, and do feel free to scream.” He motioned about the room. “The patrons of this particular establishment won’t interfere in the slightest. Quite the contrary in fact. They’ll leave us be under the assumption that you’re quite enjoying yourself.” Giles rested his palm on Antonin’s wrist to steady him. “Trust me, Mr. Doholov. When the night is done, I’ll learn all I need to and you’ll be free to return to your master.” He grinned. “For all of the good, it’ll do you.” With that, he drew the saw along the man’s flesh, tearing and cutting it with each slow, deliberate motion.

Antonin Doholov did, in fact, scream very, very loudly. He couldn’t remember the man’s name. All he did know of him was that he was cruel. Very, very cruel. He would have done the Dark Lord himself proud. And he was also right. When all was said and done, he’d told the sinister man everything he knew about Voldemort, his inner circle and what he had at his command.

 

Giles stepped back, wiping his hands on the towel. He left the wizard moaning piteously and pounded on the door to the small chamber. It opened to reveal a pair of gentlemen in aprons, rubber gloves and breathing masks. “I’m finished with him. Do be so kind as to return him to this address when you’ve gotten him cleaned up.” He tapped the table and the piece of paper sitting on it. He pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and tossed it down. “Thank you for your services, gentlemen.”

“No problem, mate.” One of the men said. “See you later.”

Giles patted his shoulder and left the room, taking his jacket with him. The pair moved over and stopped, staring at the miserable wretch that was left over from the Watcher’s attentions.

“Fuck me.” The younger of the pair said, shaking his head. “That’s just demented. Tore out his bloody eyes and tongue _and_ cut off his arm. That’s _dark_.”

“Yeah, that kind of shit sticks with ya. There’s a reason that man used to be called _Ripper_.” The older man sighed. “Let’s get in it.” He said, dropping his large bucket.

Wesley sat in the main lounge of the BDSM night club nursing his drink. Part of him was disgusted by the place. Another part of him, however, found Giles choice of coming here to conduct his interrogation to be absolute genius. No one would bat an eyelash at the screaming and wailing. He started when he felt the hand on his shoulder. Giles stood with his jacket on. “We can go. I’ve learned all I needed to.”

Wesley was glad that he didn’t have to watch what his colleague had planned. Some things he just didn’t need to see. “Is there anything left?” He asked as they left the club.

Giles shrugged. “Nothing useful.” His voice was as casual as could be.

A chill ran down Wesley’s spine.


	39. Chapter 39

Faith hung up the phone with Giles and sat on the edge of her bed, thinking. She nodded and rose to her feet. It was a quick trip to the man’s office. She spoke the password to the gargoyle and stepped onto the stairs. A moment later, she rose into the office to see the wizened old Headmaster sitting behind his desk. “Good evening, Faith.” He said, smiling at her. “What can I do for you?”

She strode across the room and dropped into the seat before his desk. She reached out, took a lemon drop and popped it into her mouth. “We need to talk about the Prophecy and why Voldemort is so keen on getting his hands on it.” Dumbledore stared at her passively. “You knew he wanted it, didn’t you?”

“I suspected,” Dumbledore admitted. “It wasn’t until Arthur Weasley was attacked and hospitalized that we knew for sure.”

Faith furrowed her brow. “What happen to Arthur?”

“He was attacked by a large snake loyal to Voldemort.” He sighed heavily. “There is no need to fret, he is fine. We managed to get to him in time. He’s at Saint Mungos recuperating. It happened while you were away in America.”

Faith was a little irritated and not being kept in the loop, but she let it go. As long as the Weasley Patriarch was okay, she’d let it rest there. “Any idea why he wants it so badly?”

Dumbledore stared at her for a moment. He considered carefully what to tell her. He trusted her implicitly. She’d shown time and again that she would do anything for Harry. Her performance at his trial was exemplary. Since then, she’d been the boy’s first line of defense and had proven that she was more than up to the task. Not only that, but she’d also demonstrated amazing resourcefulness in the recruitment of new talent to take up the fight against the Dark Lord. With all of that in mind, he did owe her to be honest.

But with that said, however, he was cautious. Faith was young and, at least as far as he could tell, unfamiliar with the kind of evil and influence people like Voldemort were capable of. So he tempered his words. “I’m not certain. My theory is that he wishes to know the full content of the prophecy. Perhaps believing it to contain knowledge on how Harry can be defeated.”

Faith quickly nodded. “That’s valid.” She leaned forward. “There’s a reason I’m asking.”

“I figured there was. You rarely do anything without a motive.” Dumbledore said, offering a soft smile.

Faith returned the grin. “I think it’s time we flush Moldy-shorts out and give him a good old fashioned grade-A American ass-whuppin’.”

“And how do you propose we accomplish that?” Dumbledore asked her. “He’s doing everything in his power to stay hidden.”

Faith’s grin turned incredibly sinister. “The better the bait, the larger the fish. We’ve got two things Voldemort wants. Two things, from what I’ve been given to understand he wants more than anything in the world. Two things that he’ll abandon all reason, caution, and propriety to get his hands on.” She held her hands out, palms up. “The Prophecy. And Harry Potter himself.”

Dumbledore immediately frowned. “You propose putting Harry in danger like that?” Everything he thought about Faith having nothing but Harry’s best interests at heart suddenly flew out the window. He couldn’t believe she was even suggesting such a thing. “We wouldn’t be able to guarantee his safety.”

Faith shook her head. “No. _You_ wouldn’t be able to guarantee his safety. But we do this and you’ll quickly learn the difference between us. Old school versus new school. My team and I would be able to keep him safe. We just need Voldemort out in the open. Once that happens, it’s open season and the man is gonna learn the hard way that you don’t have to be a wizard to be a threat.”

“What makes you think he would fall for such an obvious ploy?”

Faith snorted. “Because he’s stupid. He’s so predictable you could set your watch by him. He proved that in Harry’s first year. You put the stone here to flush him out. And it worked like a charm. The chances are good he ain’t changed. He’s a classic comic book supervillain. He’s literally doing all the shit supervillains do. He’s got a secret lair, he’s recruiting his followers from the dregs of wizard society, all the while trying to get his hands on every piece of magical who’s-a-what’s-it he can. The only thing he isn’t doing is tying damsels to train tracks and twirling his mustache.”

Dumbledore, despite the seriousness of the conversation, had to fight a smirk at the comparison. “You’re forgetting something rather important. At the moment the manpower he has at his disposal is-,” Dumbledore began.

Faith cut him off. “Negligible. He no longer has the werewolves backing him. They’ve scattered to the winds. His vampire contingent is hands off now as well, now that they’ve learned he has _two_ slayers gunning for him. They don’t want any part of him. He’s already lost two heavy hitters thanks to us. Right now he’s off balance and undermanned. So we have to strike now while the iron is hot.”

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean he’s lost two heavy hitters?”

“Fenrir Greyback and Antonin Doholov. We took Greyback out a few days ago. Antonin spent an evening in the hands of Buffy’s Watcher, Giles. Sang like a canary after Giles got done with him. He was sent back to Voldemort in pieces, but still alive as a message.” She put her hand up to forestall him. “Don’t worry. Tweed was thorough. The best Medi-witch in the world won’t be able to fix what Giles did to him. He’s about as useful as a lump of thestral crap.”

Dumbledore stared at her through angry eyes. He was furious at the girl. “When I agreed to let you be a part of this, I didn’t imagine you would sink to such depths.”

Faith glared back at him. “Wake up, old man.” She said, shooting to her feet and slamming her hands down on the wood surface. “This isn’t a fucking game. This isn’t a damn Quidditch match. We ain’t on the pitch here. This is motherfucking _war_.”

He likewise rose, trembling with rage. “Don’t you dare stand there and lecture _me_ on the tenets of war, little girl. I’ve faced down _two_ Dark Lords in my time and was victorious in combating both. How many have you faced?”

“Motherfucker, I’ve stared shit in the eye that would make you piss your fuckin’ robes. Vampires so old they were around when the siege of Troy was front page news. Demons so powerful that they were spat directly from hell itself. And not to put _too_ fine a point on it, but I just got done tangling with a fucking _God_.” She let her breath steady. “So yeah. I’m gonna stand here and lecture you on the tenets of war all I fucking want. Because until you’ve walked a mile in the shoes of a motherfucking slayer, you ain’t walked at all.”

Dumbledore kept her eyes. He could see that, despite her youth, she was far, _far_ more warrior than he himself was. Yes, he’d gone head to head with Grindelwald and beat him. He’d faced down Voldemort before and had sent him away in disgrace. But he had to concede that, in light of what the girl had just revealed, she was no more a stranger to war than he was. “That doesn’t give us license to be as evil as the Dark Lord himself. It’s what separates us from him. We have humanity.”

Faith laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “And that’s fine. _You_ and the Order can have all the humanity you want. You keep screwing around, being subtle and working the periphery. That’s fine. But me and mine? We’re gonna be out on the battlefield winning the war.” She rose to her feet. “When the time comes, Harry and I are gonna be taking the Prophecy and calling Voldemort out. You don’t wanna be involved that’s fine. Just make sure to stay the hell out of the way.”

“I’m not going to let you put Harry’s life in danger,” Dumbledore said, angrily.

Faith turned around and stared at him. “You lost the right to determine what’s best for Harry the night you dropped him on the Dursley’s doorstep.” She turned and left his office.

 

Faith wrapped her legs about Harry, her breath hitching in her chest as she shuddered. She boy gave a grunt and collapsed on top of her, likewise gasping in labored breaths. The pair lay in each other’s arms, enjoying the sensation of closeness. Before meeting him, Faith would never allow herself this. She’d always been about getting some and getting gone. She never just reveled in the feel of someone she cared about in such proximity. Mostly because she never really gave enough of a damn about the bed partners she had previously to even _want_ to do something like this. But Harry was different. He was like a drug to her. She always wanted to be with him. Just the sensation of him near her was electric. _This must be what being in love is_ , she thought to herself. _I can get used to this_.

Harry rolled over and onto his back, sweat matting his thick black hair to his head. Faith moved over and rested her head on his shoulder, her arm across his washboard stomach and her leg over this lean muscular thigh. “God, I’m never gonna get tired of that.” She said, softly.

Harry smiled as he looked at her. Like him, she was covered in a sheen of sweat and seemed to sparkle in the pale light. “You’re so beautiful.” He said, brushing her hair from her eyes. “I love you so much, Faith.”

“Right back at you, studly.” She said, nestling in. She closed her eyes and could feel fatigue pulling at her.

“Faith?” He asked.

“Hm?”

“I know this is rather forward and I, I know we’ve not known each other but a scant few months, but…” He bit his lip a moment. “Have you ever thought about marriage?”

Faith’s eyes shot open. She lifted her head and looked at him. “Seriously?” At Harry’s nod, she frowned. “You askin’ me to marry you?”

“I would like to at some point, but I was just, well, you see with you being a slayer and me being hunted by a sadistic mad wizard bent on world domination, I guess, I just…” He stammered not really knowing what to say.

She could see his frustration and chuckled, laying her head back down. “I never really thought about it. Figured I’d be dead before it ever became an issue. Always thought marriage was for people in their thirties. Given that I really think I’m not gonna make it to my mid twenties, I never gave it much thought. And you? Well, shit. Voldemort has his way, you ain’t gonna live to see graduation. And the way everyone was trying to so-called _prepare you_ for him, he was gonna have a pretty fuckin’ easy time of it. Ain’t until recently that I thought I might have something approaching a future. Same for you, I suspect.” She lifted her head again and looked into his eyes. “Let’s agree on this: We survive the year, strike a good, decisive blow against Moldy-shorts, we can talk about it. How’s that sound?”

“It’s my age, isn’t it?” Harry asked her. “I’m only fifteen. I know I’m young yet, but-,”

She put a finger to his lips. “I don’t give a shit about your age. You don’t fuck like a fifteen year old, that’s for _damn_ sure. And you sure as shit don’t eat pussy like one either. I’ve been with a lot of guys, but ain’t none of ‘em can do for me what you do. I ain’t givin’ that up for the world. But it’s not just that. You’re a good, _wholesome_ kid. You’re the kind of guy that I can be comfortable with in all aspects of my life. What I am isn’t gonna scare you away. I ain’t gotta be careful with you, which is nice. You are definitely tougher than you look. And your life experience is pretty damn solid. You’ve faced down some serious shit in your time.”

“Faced some Sirius Black, too.” Harry said, smirking.

Faith narrowed her eyes and poked him in the forehead. “Dork.”

He slid his arm under her and pulled her on top of him again. He stared up into her eyes as she giggled. “Yes, but I’m _your_ dork.” He took hold of her hair and pulled her down, kissing her intently. “I love you so very much. And when the time is right, I _am_ going to marry you.”

Faith returned his impassioned embrace for several seconds before pulling away. “What makes you think I’ll say yes? I might just leave ya for Hagrid.”

“I’m getting wonderful marks in Potions. And I know you can’t say no to a Butterbeer float.” He narrowed his eyes. "I have no qualms spiking your drink." 

She returned his glare. “That’s just _mean_.”

“I play for keeps, woman.” He offered.

Faith was about to say something else when her cell phone began playing _Master of Puppets_ by Metallica. She immediately rolled off of her man and snatched her phone off of her nightstand. She swiped across the screen and held it up to her ear. “What’s up, Q?” She asked him.

“I wanted to call and let you know that the team was successful. We’ve got it.”

“Cool. Where is it?” She asked.

"It’s here. And it’s safe. We have it in the vault. You should be reading about it in the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow morning.”

Faith grinned widely. “Good deal. Any casualties?”

“None. They were careful and only carried tranquilizers. No loss of life. Turns out it wasn’t very efficiently guarded. The team only ran into a handful of individuals and none of them posed any kind of significant threat. The men weren’t seen at all.”

“Gotta love it when it goes by the numbers. I’ll put my head together with the rest of the team and we’ll figure out how to get the word out to Moldy and his band of misfits.”

“I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t play Devil’s Advocate. What makes you think Voldemort is going to fall for this?”

“Because it’s too good a temptation to pass up. That and Voldemort doesn’t think he has anything to worry about. He’s supposedly immortal. He thinks that also makes him invincible. He’ll learn how wrong he is very, very quickly.” Faith said to him.

“Indeed. Keep me posted.” Quentin offered before hanging up.

Faith lay back and smiled brightly. “Nice.”

“What was that all about?” Harry asked her.

“Just a plan to stick in Voldemort’s craw.” Faith said. She reached over and pulled him on top of her. “Now where were we?”

 

As Harry and Faith made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast, there was already a murmur running through the room. The pair of them hid smiles as they made their house table and head table respectively.

“Got some interesting reading for you,” Snape said sliding a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ over to her.

Faith took the link of sausage she was holding and stuck it into her mouth as she read the by-line.

 

**MYSTERY HITS THE DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES.**

The article went on to detail the subsequent break-in at the Ministry of Magic by assailant or assailants unknown. It didn’t go into any specifics about what was the purpose of the attack, but she knew. And she was fairly certain that Voldemort would know as well. That made her smile. She put the paper down, leaned back in the chair and grinned. “I love it when a plan comes together.” She said, the link of sausage still in her lips like a cigar.

Snape just looked at her with a raised eyebrow. The smirk threatening his lips went unnoticed by his peers.

Harry looked up at his love, his smile matching hers. She gave him a wink.

Today was going to be a good day.


	40. Chapter 40

Faith and Harry both sat in the dining room at 12 Grimmauld Place. Also in the room was the master of the house, Sirius Black, the werewolf Remus Lupin, Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody, along with Angel, Wesley, Giles, and Buffy. As far as she was concerned, the less that knew about her plan, the better.

“Alright, Faith. You’ve got us all here.” Moody offered.

“Giles here has already briefed everyone on what he learned from Antonin Doholov.” The people in the room nodded. “I think it’s time we put that knowledge to use and make a good, solid offensive.”

“What’s your plan?” Sirius asked.

“We’re going to take Voldemort out. Buys us more time to find what’s keeping him alive and destroy it. Without a body, Voldemort was all smoke and mirrors. I think it’s time we made him get back to basics.”

“Okay,” Buffy said, shrugging. “How do we do that?”

Faith dropped a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “We make sure the bait is something he can’t ignore.”

“You suggest putting young Harry out on a hook?” Wesley asked. Moody, Shacklebolt, Lupin, and Sirius all mirrored his consternation.

“Not just me. We’re also gonna offer up the prophecy Voldemort’s been looking for as well.” Harry added. “I’ve already talked this over with Faith. We think it’s the best way to draw Voldemort out. For once, we’ll know where he’ll be and we can act accordingly.”

“Playing Devil’s Advocate a moment, we all know that he isn’t going to show up alone,” Angel suggested. “He’s going to have every swinging wand in the field he can muster.”

“Right now, that isn’t much. The reason he’s been keeping it on the DL is because he’s not ready. And the guerilla campaign we’ve been waging has left him off balance and undermanned. Without the werewolves and the vampires of London backing his play, he’s lost a lot of his foot soldiers. And the giants are too busy fighting amongst themselves to be of any use to him at the moment. So right now, we’re standing on an even playing field. But what _he_ doesn’t know is that we’ve got an ace in the hole.”

“What’s that?” Moody asked, his interest piqued. “You’ve been playing part of this pretty close to the vest.”

“Quentin is offering a Black Books team to set up a kill box. I figure we tell Voldemort that Harry wants to meet with him alone to give up himself and the prophecy in exchange for Voldemort leaving me and Harry’s friends alone. He wants to make the exchange in person and get Voldemort’s word.” Faith shook her head. “Voldemort won’t be able to pass that up.”

“And that’s when we hit him and his followers with everything we have,” Harry said.

“But we already know that won’t work.” Remus piped in.

“Weren’t you listening, Moony?” Sirius asked him. “It’s just going to remove his physical body. We can then concentrate on finding what’s sustaining him. That is much easier and much more constructive than just _reacting_ to what we _think_ he might be doing.”

The werewolf looked at his fellow Marauder and nodded. It was a simple, yet effective plan.

“Voldemort is going to know it’s a trick,” Shacklebolt said.

“I agree with Kingsley. He’s going to expect a double-cross.” This from Moody.

“I don’t think he will.” Angel shook his head. Everyone regarded him. “Voldemort suffers from two classic mistakes. The first of which is that he won’t believe it to be a trap. He’ll more likely as not take it at face value. It must have gotten back to him by now that Harry’s found someone special. He’s in love, now. Love makes you do crazy things. Harry’s plea is going to reek of fear and desperation. So self-sacrifice is something he would expect, especially from someone as young and naïve as Harry. Faith is right. The chance to get his hands on not only the prophecy but the boy himself is way too tempting to pass up. His second mistake is one that I suffered from before I got my soul. He’s immortal, just like Angelus was. He doesn’t think he has anything to be afraid of. Neither did I. So even if he does suspect it’s a trap, he’s not going to care.”

There were nods all about the room. What he said made an incredible amount of sense. “How are we going to deliver Harry’s plea to Voldemort?” Giles asked.

“You know how.” Faith offered. Of everyone present, only he and Harry knew where she was getting her information and neither of them had said word one.

“You should tell them.” He offered.

She sighed and nodded.

“What’s he talking about?” Moody asked.

“I’m sure it hasn’t escaped everyone’s notice that I seem to have the inside track when it comes to hitting back at Moldy-shorts.” The people around the room nodded. “Well, Giles and Harry already know how I’m getting my intel, but the rest of you have been somewhat kept in the dark.” She let out a breath. “Lucius Malfoy isn’t working for Voldemort anymore. He’s working for _me_.”

For several seconds, the wizards in the room were stunned into silence. To Wesley, Angel, and Buffy, the name meant nothing, so they stayed quiet.

All at once, Moody, Sirius, Shacklebolt, and Lupin began asking questions. Faith whistled and held up her hand. “Let me explain, then you can ask whatever you need to. A few months ago, during a training lesson, Draco got pissed off and cast the Crucio curse on me. It didn’t work for shit, but he still tried. He was in plain view of Tonks when he did it.”

“That’s a one-way ticket to Azkaban.” Moody offered. “He should be in prison.”

“Yeah, but he’s not. Because of me.” Faith said. “I played it off as him casting the unforgivable on my instruction. I kind of figured as someone who’s royally screwed the pooch before, I didn’t think it right for the kid getting condemned for the rest of his life because of one mistake.”

“It doesn’t matter. An unforgivable is just that. Unforgivable.” Moody insisted.

“He was a little kid that got angry.” Faith said. “It happens. _But_ because I went to bat for him, I put Lucius Malfoy, one of Voldemort’s key players, on the leash. So far, he’s told us where and how we can find Fenrir Greyback and where we could find Antonin Doholov. Both of which were deep inside Voldemort’s circle. Thanks to him, we’ve struck some serious blows.”

“What’s to stop him from telling Voldemort everything?” Moody asked.

“Because he’s not stupid.” Faith said. “To show how much I was willing to do for him, I offered to have his wife taken into protective custody by the Watcher’s Council. I told him it was to ensure her safety. And to be fair, that was part of my reasoning. But the other reason I did it was to keep him loyal. Lucius is a grade-A asshole, but he loves his wife and his kid. By having her removed from their home and taken someplace ‘safe’,” She made quotation marks in the air, “We’ve guaranteed that Voldemort can’t come after her. And we’ve kept her location a secret so Voldemort can’t torture it out of him. So right now, daddy Malfoy doesn’t have any choice but to keep his shit in check, otherwise, the Watcher’s Council will send his wife back to him ‘Bitch of the Month Club’ style.”

Moody nodded, seemingly satisfied with her explanation. He knew Lucius Malfoy rather well. He didn’t trust the man as far as he could throw him, but he _did_ know that he cared deeply for his family and would do anything for them. Even turn his back on the Dark Lord.

“So how do we handle this?” Sirius asked.

“First, I need to make a phone call.” She looked at the animagus. “Mind if I borrow a fireplace?”

 

Lucius Malfoy sat in his study deep within his palatial Wiltshire manor. He was not looking forward to the meeting at all. Things had most assuredly changed as of late. Much like the Dark Lord, he was a blood purist. He wanted only the strongest and purest of bloodlines to take control of the Wizarding World. It was a dream that once upon a time, he clung to above all else.

He fell in with Voldemort because the man preached such values and would do anything and everything to reach such goals. And Lucius as a young wizard believed the man. A large part of him still did.

But time changes a person. Lucius wasn’t blind. He could see how more and more impure families were producing powerful wizarding offspring. True, these children weren’t purebloods, most were half-breeds and a shocking number of them were Muggles that knew nothing of their world and its machinations.

But still, they had power. In some cases _extreme_ power. He was no slouch when it came to magic, but he begrudgingly had to admit that there were others, most of them not of pure blood, that far exceeded him.

He was still contemplating this when the sharp _crack_ of apparation stole his attention. He lifted his head to see the Dark Lord himself standing tall with Bellatrix LeStrange at his side. Lucius had expected this. The woman clung to Voldemort’s coattails like a lovesick puppy. “My lord,” Lucius said, rising to his feet and offering the man his seat.

Voldemort glided over and eased into the chair. “Lucius,” He said, nodding to the man. “Where is lovely Narcissa? I so miss her… _smile_.” His voice was like a snake’s belly dragging over glass.

“She is not here,” Lucius said. He was still a bit upset that he didn’t know where she was. But that anger was useful. Voldemort was a master of seeing beyond the surface emotion of many a wizard. Seeing the barely contained rage in Malfoy’s face would make the tale he was about to spin that much more believable. “I have told you of young Potter’s newest… _infatuation_.”

“Yes, I recall you mentioning her. Hogwart’s newest Dark Arts instructor. A muggle, if memory serves.”

“She’s also a slayer.” Bellatrix offered in her shrill voice.

 _How can he stand to listen to her?_ Lucius thought quietly to himself. “Quite. It appears that she has friends in high places.”

“Does she, now?” Voldemort asked, furrowing his brow.

“Are you one of those friends, Malfoy?” Bellatrix asked, gripping her wand tightly.

“Now, now, Bellatrix. We mustn’t fling accusations. We’re all friends here.” Voldemort said to the woman. “Aren’t we, Lucius?”

“Of course, my lord. But this woman has seen fit to use her influence and abscond with my wife.” Lucius leaned against the wall and buried his face in his hands. Tears moistened his eyes. “She’s threatened to,” He swallowed, feigning sorrow. “You don’t know this girl, my lord. She isn’t one to be trifled with. What she did to poor Dolores Umbridge-,”

“Is of no consequence.” Voldemort offered, interrupting him. “Pull yourself together, Lucius. If your wife is alive, we will find her and see her returned to you.”

“Young Harry spoke with me. He believes what Faith did was wrong. That she shouldn’t have targeted my wife.” Lucius made a show of trying to calm himself. “He said if I deliver a single message to you, he can get Faith to let my wife go.”

“He did, did he?” Voldemort asked. “And what message is that?”

“He’s afraid. He’s accepted that he can’t defeat you. The night in the cemetery still haunts him. Suffering at your hands still causes him fear.” A smirk threatened Voldemort’s lips. Bellatrix seemed beside herself with joy. “He says that he doesn’t want anyone else getting hurt because of him. The death of the Diggory boy weighs heavily on him. He’s willing to make a trade. He told me that he was responsible for the theft of the prophecy from the Ministry. He’s seen it and, though he doesn’t see what use it could possibly be to you, is willing to give it to you along with himself if you’ll give him your word that his friends will be spared.”

“He must know what lies in store for him,” Voldemort said.

“He does, my lord. But it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make to keep his friends safe.” Malfoy informed him.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Lucius?” Voldemort asked.

The Malfoy patriarch had expected this question and had the perfect response. It all hinged on Bellatrix being as impulsive as he believed her to be. He snarled and rushed toward the Dark Lord in anger. “They have _my WIFE_!” He roared. “If they were to have ordered me to kill you, I would have done so without hesitation.”

In an instant, Bellatrix was in his face, her wand pressed against his chin. “Not one more step, Malfoy.” She snapped.

He quickly pushed her wand aside and backhanded her across the face, knocking her to the floor. He knew what was coming and prepared for it. But it was necessary to maintain his illusion of desperation. She glared up at him and leveled her wand. “ _Crucio!_ ” She screamed at him. The pain was intense. He knew it to be a spell that Bellatrix thrived on. She was a master of its delivery and maintenance. For nearly a minute straight, the woman tormented him with its power.

“Alright, Bellatrix. That’s enough.” Voldemort said, resting a hand on her arm. “He’s learned his place.”

She took her place back behind him and continued to glare at the light haired wizard. “Don’t do that again.”

Lucius groaned and slowly rose shakily to his feet. He ignored her and eyed Voldemort. “My lord. I only wish for the safety of my wife and my son. You know that. I am merely doing what I must to see them free from harm.”

“I understand, Lucius.” He said, rising to his feet. “Inform Mr. Potter that I accept his terms. Tell him to meet me here, alone, in three days time at midnight. If he does not come alone he will face dire consequences. His friends have families…and that pathetic Order cannot protect them all.”

Malfoy nodded. “I’ll tell him tonight.”

Voldemort patted the man on the shoulder. “You have done well, Lucius. We will see your wife returned to your arms, you have my word.”

“Thank you, my lord.” He said, nodding. The pair were gone in a flash. “Did you hear?”

Faith stepped out of the shadows to stand beside him. “Yep.” She said, looking at him. She pulled her cell phone out and dialed a number. When the image of his wife appeared, he handed it to him. “As promised.”

“Beloved?” Narcissa asked, staring at her husband. It was obvious she was glad to see him.

“Hello, love.” He said, smiling. “You look ravishing in the sunlight. Are you getting a tan?” He asked, happily.

Faith couldn’t help but chuckle. “I love my job.” She said, happily.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took this chapter down to rewrite it a bit and make some monumental changes. 
> 
> One of my readers, I won't name names, but he knows who he is, recently called me out for making my end fights a little too anticlimactic. Especially in this case. 
> 
> So this chapter's for you, you whiny bastard. ;) 
> 
> Enjoy.

Faith wrapped her arms about Harry as he moved against her. Both were soaked with sweat as he pushed into her again and again. She buried her face against his shoulder, determined not to cry out as they made love. The pair had sought each other out under the directive of both Sirius and Giles.

“Take the evening,” Sirius offered. “Find your bed and spend the night together.”

“You deserve it,” Giles added. “Remind each other of why you fell in love.”

Neither bothered to add the _“Because it might be the last you have together,”_ but both Harry and Faith heard it just the same. So they made their way to their room and took to each other with a fervent passion. They stripped off their clothes and fell into bed, hands clutching at each other in a desire to memorize every contour, every blemish of each other’s bodies. To the young lovers, this feeling, this passion was the greatest of sensations. And if this was indeed to be the last night they shared, they were determined to find their graves remembering it forever.

Faith threaded her fingers in Harry’s thick black hair, kissing him fiercely. Her body shuddered as he thrust into her. “I’m close, baby.” She said, her tone breathless. “Don’t stop. _God_ , Harry don’t stop.”

“Never.” He responded, his strong arm wrapping around her, holding her close. He rested his other on the bed for balance. The sight of Faith’s eyes closed, her lips parted as she let out a deep sensual moan was what undid him. He let out a guttural grunt as he continued to drive home. His body hammered into hers, causing her breasts the shake as he did so. “I love you, Faith.” He offered as he felt the powerful slayer tighten about him. It was a feeling unlike any other. She was his first and only sexual partner. But he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would find none better. Faith would forever be his drug, his addiction. Nothing the wizarding world could offer him was close to this. She was his all, his everything. And if they survived the night, she would be his for the rest of his days. As she moaned loudly and again pressed her face to his neck and shoulder, he released, quaking as he did so.

“ _Fuck_!” Faith muttered, her body bucking.

The pair sat upon the bed panting heavily. Faith continued to tremble against him. She slowly pulled her head back and stared into his eyes. Her breath came in labored gasps. For several seconds she just continued to gaze at him. “I love you too Harry.” She said, softly.

He gave her an exhausted smile and a nod. “More than anything.” He returned.

“This is backwards as hell, but…” She rested her forehead against his. “When this is over if we survive it…” She bit her lip a moment and closed her eyes, steeling herself. She then opened them and looked into his. “I think we should get married.”

Harry was stunned, to say the least. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t because he most certainly would. As he’d said, he loved Faith more than anything. He would do anything for her. But there was a part of him that doubted. Not Faith’s love for him. He knew she loved him as much as he loved her. But talk of marriage was, well, for someone like Faith it was a _huge_ step. And he couldn’t help but think it was simply the situation that prompted her to ask. So he had to know. “Are, are you asking because of what we’re about to face, or because you genuinely wish to wed?”

Faith stared intently at him. It was a legitimate question and she knew it. Harry was young. And so was she. Legally speaking neither of them was an adult. But that said, both had faced down more than any adult they could name, a few outliers aside. As far as Faith was concerned, that was enough. Granted, thanks to Mayor Wilkins, she was an emancipated minor, but Harry was a different story. He was, technically, still in the custody of the Dursleys. She was sure, however, that she could make a few phone calls to the Watcher’s Council and get that changed.

“I want to.” She said to him. “I can’t, I hate it when we’re not together. I have never _ever_ felt that way about anyone. Even my closest friends. But you? You’re just, I want you with me all the time. I wanna go to sleep with you beside me and wake up next to you. I wanna be able to just grab you whenever I want and go at it like rabbits or just chill on the couch and watch TV. I wanna be able to do whatever with you. Ever since that first night in my apartment, I’ve been craving you. I don’t wanna lose that. Yeah, part of it might be because we’re about to do something stupid, but…” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I can’t lose what we got. We’ve worked too hard and come through too much.”

“Faith?” Harry touched her chin and lifted her face to look at him. “Yes.”

She stared a moment longer, then smiled brightly. “I love you, Harry.”

“I love you, too Mrs. Potter.” He said, hugging her tightly.

 

Faith and Harry descended the stairs to see everyone rushing about. “Feel better?” Buffy asked the pair.

“Yeah, actually.” Faith returned, grinning. “Kid’s a thoroughbred, B.” She flicked her eyes to Angel. “You two able to get some fun in?” She saw Buffy blush and Angel’s smile grow a mile wide.

“That’s a yes,” Harry said, nodding. He stepped up to Angel. “You’re a lucky man.” He offered, nudging the large vampire in the ribs. “She’s quite a catch.”

“I know, believe me.” He stared at Buffy as she returned his gaze. “Not a day goes by I don’t think about how fortunate I am.”

The blonde shot in and kissed him. She then turned to Faith. “The guys from the Council just arrived.”

Faith nodded. “Alright. Let’s go put this plan together.” She led the four of them into the kitchen. Everyone quieted as she entered. “Thanks for coming, everyone.” She moved up to the table to see the blueprints she’d asked for laying out. “And we’re sure this is the current blueprints? No surprise rooms or any of that noise?” She asked the man in charge of the soldiers Quentin had sent.

“As far as we know.” He offered. He pulled out what looked like a satellite image showing Malfoy Manor and the surrounding area. Upon it were six **X** ’s drawn in red. “My team and I will take up positions here. We’ve scoped them out already. It’ll give all of us clear lines of sight to the study. You said that’s where the meeting is going down.”

“What kind of hardware are you packing?” She asked him.

He pulled a long black cloth case from his back and set it down. He then unzipped it and stepped back to let her and everyone else see it. “Accuracy International Arctic Warfare.” He said as she looked it over. “A solid Schmidt & Bender Military Mark 2 scope.” He lifted a bullet. “For this op, we’re using the 7.62x51 millimeter NATO Black Talon rounds for stopping power and minimum penetration. Less chance of a through and through.” He looked to Harry. “We don’t want the bullet going through Voldemort and hitting anyone else in the room.”

He swallowed and nodded. “I appreciate that.”

Faith handed the bullet back to him. “Good lookin’ out. I’m not giving you boys any safety’s. You get a shot at chrome-dome, you take it. Put that son of a bitch down if you get a chance.”

He nodded as he put his weapon away. “Affirmative, ma’am.”

“Why isn’t Dumbledore here?” Harry asked, looking around.

“I told him to stay put.” Faith said to him. “He’s too public. Chances are good Moldy-shorts is having Hogwarts watched. So we have to make it look like business as usual. Dumbledore and Snape are both still there, doing their thing. So’s Tonks. Shacklebolt and Moody are also keeping it low key. It’s just gonna be us.”

Harry looked about again. Sirius, Lupin, Molly, and Arthur stood about staring at the pair of them. Giles, Wesley, Buffy, and Angel were also in attendance. Though he knew everyone quite capable, he couldn’t help but feel that they were _grotesquely_ undermanned.

The sudden crash of the front door slamming open caught everyone’s attention. The six men of the strike team immediately had their submachine guns up and pointed at the kitchen door. They took up flanking positions and readied themselves. The rhythmic ­ _thump-thock_ moving down the hallway toward the kitchen put everyone on edge. A few seconds later, the door flew open. Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody stood glaring at them all. “You’re not about to go to war with the Dark Lord without me.” He snarled.

“I didn’t want you involved in case you were being watched.” Faith returned. “Voldemort might be dumb, but he’s cautious.”

“I was being watched.” Moody shot back, moving up to the table. He ignored the men with guns. He looked down at the plans on the wood. He regarded Faith and smirked. “I was an Auror for a long time, girl. I taught most of these punks how to tail someone. I slipped him easy enough.”

Faith smiled at him. “Glad to have you aboard.” She said, swatting him on the back. She looked to the strike leader. “He’s cool.” The man nodded and backed away. She pointed to the table. “We got snipers here,” She said regarding the red marks. “What else do you think we should do?”

“Buffy and the Vampire on the roof. Quick and easy access to you and Harry should you need the help.” He tapped the satellite image. “The chances are good that he’ll surround the house with followers,” He then moved his finger to the treeline. “Me, Molly, Arthur, Sirius, and Lupin here, spread out a bit so we can’t all be caught with the same spell. As soon as we see Dark Wizards start appearing, we need to go on the offensive.” He looked at the four. “No quarter, here. They aim to kill, so we have to be lethal in turn. Whatever spell you have in your arsenal _use it_.”

Molly frowned. “Are you saying we should even risk using the-,”

“ _Any_ spell.” Moody reiterated. “Extreme circumstances, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Harry’s near as makes no difference like a son to you, right?” Faith asked her. As she nodded, Faith grinned. “Then ask yourself what Mama Weasley would do if someone threatened her baby.” She saw the woman’s face become a mask of rage. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

“Giles, Wesley. You two have crossbows.” He pointed to a row of hedges. “Here. Close in and able to take shots. This rings the entire estate. Perfect for cover. Keep moving, not letting them get a bead.”

Giles looked it over. “It staggers here and here.” He said, indicating. “You’re right. It’s perfect.” Wesley nodded his agreement.

“It’s almost ten.” Faith looked to the Special Ops team. “How are you boys getting there?”

“There’s a helicopter nearby.” He said, gathering his gear. “See you on site.” The group then left without another word.

She sighed and turned back to the table. _I hope this works_ , she thought, solemnly.

 

An hour later, Faith and Harry found themselves moving toward the palatial home of Lucius Malfoy. The only light they could see in the house was that of the man’s large study. She turned and looked at her love. She could see his nervousness. “You okay, Harry?” She asked him. She knew it was a completely rhetorical question.

“Of course.” He said, giving her a smile. “I just hope this goes as well as you’re saying it will.”

“Oh, it won’t.” She said, shaking her head. “It’s gonna go to hell, I’m sure. Shit we aren’t prepared for is a definite. Murphy’s gonna be workin’ overtime tonight.” She shrugged. “All we can do is adapt. But we got some good heads out there. We’ll be alright.”

“That’s a comfort.” He returned.

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Harry.” She took his hand. “I love you too much to be anything but honest with you. Tonight’s gonna be hard. You’re gonna have to stare Voldemort in the eye. But I’m gonna be there with you. I’ll be in the room and as soon as he drops in, I’m gonna be all over him. I’m not gonna let him get near you.”  

He gave her a nod. “I know.” He let out a breath. “I just want this to be over. I want to live my life with you and not worry about it.”

“Even if we take him out, we still have to figure out what’s keeping him here.” Faith said. “It doesn’t end with just killing him.” She shook her head. “I wish that wasn’t a thing.”

“Me either,” Harry added. The pair rapped on the front door.

Lucius answered, his expression dour. “Mr. Potter. Professor Lehane,” He said, stepping aside to allow them in. He was none too happy about this entire arrangement. In less than an hour, a war was going to fought in his home. All that he’d accumulated could possibly be brought low when the night was done. “This way.” He said, motioning them to follow. “I must admit, Potter. You’re either incredibly brave or incredibly dim for agreeing to this.”

He stared at the back of the man’s head. “I prefer the former, Mister Malfoy.”

Lucius chuckled. “Yes, I suspect you do.” He pushed open the large double doors. “This is where The Dark Lord wished to meet with you.” He flicked his eyes to the clock on the wall. “He should be arriving soon.”

“For the record, I didn’t expect him to want to meet here.” Faith offered.

“It isn’t your fault.” Lucius returned. “The Dark Lord does as he wishes and doesn’t consider anything but his own agenda.”

“We’ll try to keep the destruction to a minimum.”

He stared at her a moment. “I appreciate that.”

Faith nodded and moved to the large wardrobe she’d hidden in last time and leaned against the back wall, waiting. She kept the door cracked a touch and saw Harry drop onto the sofa across from Malfoy’s large overstuffed armchair. Harry sat with his hands in his lap, the crystal sphere clutched in his fingers. He looked at her and gave her a weak smile. She could see the abject terror in his eyes. She felt for him, she really did. To her, Voldemort was just another notch on the belt. Given what all of them had recently dealt with in Sunnydale, the Dark Wizard and his cronies weren’t going to be much of a problem.

That and they were about to learn what a difference modern technology could make.

The minutes ticked by. The hair on the back of Faith’s neck suddenly stood on end. She recognized it immediately. Powerful magic was being used. She heard what sounded like wind howling.

A crackle of static in her ear caught her attention. “ _There’s some sort of dark clouds whipping around the building. We’ve lost visual contact_.” The strike leader offered over the radio.

“Shit.” Faith hissed angrily. She lifted her eyes to peer out into the room a heartbeat before a series of telltale _cracks_ filled the space.  

There, standing in all of his pale-faced black robed glory was the Dark Lord himself. Beside him was his faithful companion Bellatrix. She could also see several other black-clad masked figures about the room.

Harry sat, frozen in fear. “Voldemort,” He said, terror in his voice.

“Potter…” The Dark Lord said, a lipless smile splitting his long, white face. “I must admit, boy, I didn’t believe you had it in you.” He glided closer to the young wizard. He slowly lifted his wand. “You have come to plead for the lives of those you hold dear, have you not?”

Harry flicked his eyes to Bellatrix and the other wizards. He swallowed and rose to his feet. The black haired woman immediately stood beside him, her wand pressing into the bottom of his chin. “Lose the wand, boy.” 

The wardrobe suddenly blasted open and Faith rushed forward. She bypassed Harry, dove over Malfoy, who remained in his chair and speared Voldemort to the ground. The pair went down so hard and fast, everyone in the room was stunned into momentary stillness. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. The impact caused the walls to shake. Faith didn’t give him a moment to breathe. She drew her fist back and drove it across Voldemort’s gaunt face with enough force to shatter brick.

Time returned to normal. And several things happened at once.

Bellatrix let out a shrieking “ _My Lord!_ ” As she watched the pair go down.

Harry reacted. He quickly dropped to a crouch and swept the woman’s feet from beneath her, toppling her to the floor.

Buffy and Angel both landed with a feather lightness on the balcony.

Malfoy pushed off with his feet, throwing his chair backward. He rolled to a vertical base and ran from the room. He wanted no part of the conflict at hand.

Faith drew back the punch the man again. “ _Flipendo_!” The Dark Lord snapped. His wand whipped in a rapid-fire fashion. Faith was immediately hurled away from him. She flew across the room, smashing into the shelves. She hit the floor, dazed. Debris rained down on her as she landed.

Voldemort rose to his feet, rage boiling in his eyes. He bore down on her, his wand poised.

Buffy didn’t waste a moment. She lashed out with a hard kick to the first robed figure she saw. Her foot cracked into his back with authority. The man let out a strangled grunt and was thrust forward to smack into the wooden floor. She gripped his robes and turned, hurling him out into the maelstrom that surged about the house. As he disappeared into the blackness, she heard the sharp _crack_ of gunfire. She knew at that moment that she needn’t worry about him again. She nodded and went back to the fight.

Angel struck hard and fast. His fist crashed against the mask of the nearest Death Eater. The white facade shattered as the Dark Wizard succumbed the superhuman vampiric strength. As he fell, he thrust his wand toward the undead hero. “ _Crucio_!”

Angel’s body was wracked with pain. He clenched his teeth and staggered a step. He then narrowed his eyes at the caster and reached out, pushing past the agony to grip the man’s throat. “Nice try.” He said before hurling the man out through the open double doors into the cyclone. As with Buffy’s victim, the distant thunderclap of a sniper rifle echoed.

Harry rolled to the side, his wand at the ready. Bellatrix was back to her feet in a heartbeat. “You little _bastard_!” She shrieked, leveling her own wand. “ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

Harry didn’t hesitate. He deftly shoulder-rolled away, a heartbeat before the woman’s spell blasted a hole the size of a basketball in the hardwood floor. “ _Expelliarmus_!” Harry returned, aiming for Bellatrix’s wand.

No stranger to dueling, she dove and rolled over the back of the couch, letting the spell bypass her completely. “Pathetic, boy.” She said, taunting. She was again up and casting. “ _Ava-_ ,” She was cut off as the glass sphere that contained the useless prophecy smacked her directly in the face. She was thrown back to the floor, her lip bloody.

“Yes, you are,” Harry said, grinning before rushing out of the room. The black haired woman screamed like a banshee and raced after him.

Faith rose to her knees and shook the cobwebs away. She lifted her eyes to see him coming toward her. She rose just in time for him to growl “ _Crucio_!” Energy shot from his wand and enveloped her. She was no stranger to pain. When young Draco had tried the spell on her, it had been rather anemic and didn’t seem to have much behind it. So was not the case with the Dark Lord Voldemort. Her body felt as if it was trying to tear itself apart. Every nerve, every fiber ignited. Her mind nearly went white with unfettered agony. Her knees buckled and she fell to the floor, her body shaking. Power unlike any she’d dealt with before coursed through her.

But the part of her that was the slayer fought back. The beast within began pushing against the pain. _This is nothing new_ , it said to her. _Get up!_ Faith thought to herself. _Get UP!_

Voldemort reveled in her misery, her pain. He smiled with sinister glee. “What are you, now, girl?” He drew closer, continuing his torment. “The Slayer in _deed_. There is no power here.”

Faith growled low in her throat and lifted her eyes to him. “Yes, there is.” She said through clenched teeth. "Let me show you." 

He stared in open amazement as she slowly rose to her feet. "Impossible," He snarled and redoubled his efforts. He chuckled as Faith let out a guttural scream. But still, she kept her vertical base. “You will succumb to the pain you disgusting Muggle _wretch!_ ”

Faith shook her head. “No.” She quickly loosed a jab that cracked across his face. The strike staggered him back and stole his concentration, ending the spell. Faith stumbled and again threw herself at him, taking him once more to the floor.

He began casting a spell she knew full well she couldn’t let him finish. As his wand started the lightning pattern in the air and spoke the dreaded “ _Avada-_ ,” She wrapped her hand about his wand, stilling it.

“I don’t fucking think so,” She offered before twisting her hand to the side.

“NO!” Voldemort screamed a moment before his wand snapped like a proverbial twig. He immediately drove the broken end of the implement into the girl’s ribs, before shoving her off of him.

Faith rolled aside, before coming to her feet. She tore the ersatz weapon from her side, joyful that it didn’t penetrate very deeply. She lifted her eyes back to him. She knew what he was attempting to do and again lunged forward. She took firm hold of his robes as he turned in place…

Buffy hammered her third victim into the ground and looked across the room just in time to see Faith and Voldemort, locked in a deadly embrace disappear with a blinding flash and a deafening _crack_ …

“Faith!” The blonde slayer shouted in fear.


	42. Chapter 42

Harry ran as fast as his legs would carry him. As soon as he cleared the doorway, he threw himself to the side. He barely dodged the blast that took a large section of the jamb out. Splinters bit into his back, telling him just how close the enraged Bellatrix had gotten. “Stand and fight, boy!” She screamed after him.

He came to his feet and was again on the move. He ran to the stairs, taking them in a series of leaps. Bellatrix exited the room and quickly took stock. She saw Harry descending the steps and, eager to cut him off, dove headlong over the banister. She flipped in midair and landed in a crouch in the open foyer. She stood to her full height as Harry hit the floor. He slid to a stop, surprised. “Oh, bugger!” He said in shock.

“ _Crucio_!” She snapped. The sickly green energy from her wand raced toward him.

Harry flipped to the side, landing on one knee. Her spell raced past him. “ _Expelliarmus_!” He answered back.

Bellatrix abandoned her own incantation, thrusting both legs out to either side, ducking below the arc of his returning hex.

Harry cursed and hopped up, rushing toward the front door. Bellatrix rolled onto her back and kicked herself to her feet to see him reaching for the front door. “ _Confringo_!” She swung her wand toward him. The blast hit the floor in front of him, causing him to stagger back. She kept her wand pointing toward him as she moved closer. “Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, Potter.” She said, gleefully.

Harry moved away, his wand clutched firmly in his hand. He swallowed as he watched her slowly grin at him. “He’s dead, you know.” He began. “Faith is going to kill him.” He could see her smile fading and his own began to grow. “Voldemort is-,”  

“Shut up!” She shouted at him. “You don’t get to say his name!” Her voice quickly became shrill. Her hand began to tremble with rage. “Your little girlfriend is-,”

“Going to gut him like a suckling pig,” Harry responded. “He’ll probably even scream like one.” He quickly brought a spell to mind. He’d seen it employed only twice, but he was paying rapt attention both times. He was confident he could duplicate it but… _I hope this works_ , he thought desperately.

Bellatrix drew her wand back, beginning the most taboo of all the unforgivable curses. Her lips parted, ready to speak the words.

Harry, however, proved the quicker. “ _Sectumsempra_!” He cried out, swinging his wand as he would the sword of Gryffindor.

The woman’s cacophonous pain wracked shriek filled the room as blood sprayed about. Bellatrix’s wand arm flipped into the air and slapped to the ground several feet away, still twitching. She clutched her bleeding stump and fell to her knees. Her body began trembling as she cried in agony.

Harry stood a moment staring at the dark witch. She lifted quivering eyes to him. He slowly pointed his wand at her. Despite the pain, she smiled at him. “Can you, boy?” She asked him. “You can hurt, you can wound…but can you _kill_? Do you have it in you, Potter?” He just stared, saying nothing. “Go on! Do it! Kill me.” When he didn’t move a muscle, she snorted. “Just like your parents.”

“No, Bellatrix.” He stepped forward, his wand inches from her face. “They died at Voldemort’s hands.” He shook his head. “I didn’t.”

“So go on, then! Prove how much like my Lord you really are! Be a killer, Harry! I dare you!”

Harry again shook his head. “I’m nothing like Voldemort, Bellatrix.” He again smiled at her like a skull. “He needs to do things that are… _unforgivable_.” Again he slashed at her. “ _Sectumsempra_!” Her other arm slapped to the wood. Her voice pierced his ears as she once again screamed in pain. He kicked her in the chest, slamming her to the floor. Her tear filled eyes stared at him. “I remember Voldemort’s Cruciatus.” He motioned to her bleeding stumps. “Now _you’ll_ remember _mine_ for the rest of your life.” He narrowed his eyes. “Both seconds of it.”

In that moment, Bellatrix knew fear. She could feel herself going faint. Her eyelids became heavy. Unable to resist, she gave him one last smile. “At least your little whore will die by my Lord’s hands.” She offered with a slur.

He moved over and stepped on her bloodied stump, causing her to cry out. “Not in your lifetime.” He responded. He continued to keep her eyes as they glossed over and became lifeless.

He stood motionless, staring at her body. He was reminded of that night in the graveyard last year. The night Cedric died. On Voldemort’s orders, Peter Pettigrew killed him with nothing even approaching remorse. And as he stared down at her, he couldn’t help but feel…nothing. No anger, no remorse, no joy. Just emptiness. He’d thought killing her, Voldemort’s most devoted servant, he’d feel something besides simple apathy. “Am I like him?” He asked to the emptiness of the room.

“No.” He heard Lucius Malfoy’s cultured voice from behind him. He spun, his wand at the ready.

The man exited the shadows, his hands empty and raised to show he meant no harm. “I’ve known the Dark Lord quite a long time. I’ve been privy to his deepest fears and his darkest hatreds. His cruelty and his whimsy. His treachery knows no bounds.” He shook his head as he stopped a few paces from Harry. “You are nothing like him. The Dark Lord kills for pleasure, to make an example out of those that defy or fail him.” He motioned to Bellatrix. “You killed out of necessity.”

“But I feel…cold. Empty.” Harry said, looking over at the woman’s body. “Shouldn’t I feel-?”

“Does the Lion feel pity for the Gazelle?” Lucius asked, stepping up to the still form of the black witch. “Does the Wolf feel remorse for the Doe?” He looked at Harry. “No, they do not. Nor should they.” He cocked his head. “You proved that night when Voldemort came after you that you were not prey, but a predator.” He tapped the body with his foot. “And this night, you’ve proven it again. She deserves no pity, no remorse. She deserved precisely what she got.” He again eyed Harry, a smile on his face. “And I personally believe you were the _perfect_ person to give it to her.”

Harry stared at the man, not sure how to take that.

 

Faith’s fingers threaded into the thickness of his robes as he completed his apparation. She was pulled along with him to…wherever it was they ended up. She hit the soft grass and rolled a pace before coming to a stop. Her stomach threatened to empty itself. “Never gonna get used to that.” She said, shaking the cobwebs from her head. She was startled when she felt thin fingers grip her hair and lifted her from the ground. She was then hurled against what she quickly realized was a headstone. The impact was jarring but she’d suffered worse. It did, however, bring her back to herself.

Voldemort stood a few feet away, sneering at her. “Just because I am wandless, does not mean I am without resources, child.” He growled.

Faith ran at him, her fist leading. “Good to know.” Her blow cracked across his face, sending him likewise into a grave marker. He flipped backward over it and tumbled to the ground. He quickly got to a vertical base…to be once again thrown to the dirt as her spin kick came around to take him across the side of the head. He hit hard and rolled to his feet. She drew back a punishing right, ready to let loose.

He snarled and lifted his hand, catching her fist in his left palm. He very quickly wished he hadn’t. Being what he was, a magical construct of dark energies and the most powerful of foul sorceries, he was far beyond what a normal human, in the physical, was capable of. His strength was considerable, despite his rather frail appearance.

But he soon learned that despite all of that, he was no match for the slayer. As was evidenced by the bones in his palm and forearm snapping and breaking under the tremendous impact of the girl’s powerful strike. He cried out in pain and was thrown, once again, to the ground.

Faith stood over him, gloating. “Yeah. I’m not seein’ a whole lotta anything, asswipe. Without your wand, you’re nothing but a bitch with bad skin and a serious need for Rogaine.”

Voldemort growled at her. “You _DARE_?” He shouted the last word and thrust his right hand toward her. “ _Crucio_!”

Faith was quite surprised that, without his trusted wand, he would even be able to use magic, let alone something as powerful as a Cruciatus. And as the magical energies rolled over her… she found them severely lacking. She was forced back a step and clenched her teeth, but the power behind it was nothing compared to what he was capable of in Malfoy’s study. “Nice try, asshole. But I’ve had worse period cramps.” She stormed over to him and gripped his neck, lifting him from the ground. Her fingers began crushing his throat. He tried desperately to break her hold, but her strength was far, _far_ beyond anything he’d ever encountered before. “Gotta admit,” She began with a grin. “I expected more from you.”

“I am immortal,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You kill me, I will return.”

Faith pulled him in, forcing him to his knees in front of her. “ _God_ , I hope so.” She said, a wide, sinister grin curling her lips. “But until then, while you’re floating around, watching the world move on without you, watching pureblood wizards mingle with us Muggle types, and gettin’ all shades of pissed off about it, I’m gonna be married to your boy, fuckin’ his brains out and forgetting you exist.” She clenched her fist, reveling in the sounds of Voldemort’s bones cracking and crunching under her fingers. She dropped him and stepped back, staring down at his body. “Pussy.” She said with a derisive snort.

She reached into her pocket and pulled the Zippo she carried with her out. She knelt, flicking it open, ready to set fire to his corpse. “Don’t want you comin’ back to _this_ motherfucker.” She said, smiling.

She heard the crunch of boots on grass and the frantic “ _Avada-_ ,” and immediately backflipped away from the body. As the telltale “ _Kedavra_!” made it out of the unknown caster’s mouth, the emerald green blast flew past her with barely any room to spare. It impacted a headstone and blew the marker to gravel.

Faith landed in a crouch, with her knife out and at the ready. Out of the shadows walked a man, short of stature, with a large, round belly, a mop of greasy dark brown hair and a rat-like face. She saw his silver right hand and knew immediately who he was. He moved over to stand protectively over Voldemort’s corpse. “You know, I gotta admit, I completely forgot about you.” She said to him, smiling.

“ _Avada Kedavra_!” He shouted again. He grinned widely as the slayer again dodged away, taking refuge behind a large tombstone. “ _Confringo_!” He snapped, leveling his wand at the grave marker. The stone blasted to powder, showering the area in gray dust. Faith was thrown forward by the concussion. She got to her knees, shaking her head before turning to see Peter Pettigrew hoist Voldemort’s corpse onto his shoulder.

Time slowed to a crawl. She drew her blade back and hurled it with all her strength. The weapon flew straight and true. Peter was deep into his apparation…when the heavy knife penetrated his back, directly between his shoulder blades.

The sharp _crack_ echoed into the silence of the now empty graveyard. Faith stood, staring at the spot where the pair had disappeared. “God _dammit_!” She snapped angrily. “I really liked that knife.”

She sighed and pulled her cell phone out and grumbled. The phone was completely and utterly dead. “Wonderful.” She said, sadly. She looked around and saw the massive house on the hill. “Yeah, I doubt that place has a damn phone.” She shook her head and picked a direction. “Got a _long_ walk ahead of me.” She said, moving out of the graveyard.

 

Buffy stared in horror as she watched Faith disappear. “Faith,” She said, sinking to her knees. “No, no, no.” She felt hot tears fall down her cheeks.

Suddenly her back was showered with warm, thick liquid. She rose to her feet and reached back, touching the dampness. She pulled her fingers around to see them red and sticky. She turned around and saw the Death Eater behind her, his head nothing save a crimson smear upon the floorboards. The swirling clouds around the house had dissipated, which meant it was open season for the Watcher’s Council strike team.

And now that the snipers had visual contact again, it was a rout. Shots rang out like firecrackers during the 4th of July. Wizards were dropping like flies. She moved out onto the balcony to see them rushing about and casting their charms, curses, and hexes in a blind panic. They had no idea what was happening. They were sampling whipping their wands about indiscriminately with no actual target visible. While Voldemort might have been privy to what modern firearms could do, the rest of those present were at a loss.

A few of them managed to apparate away, but most died with large holes in their bodies where their lives had previously been. She was reminded of the Initiative and their use of technology to do a slayer’s job. Guns rarely, if ever, did anything to most demons and vampires. But, as the current display showed, they did _just fine_ against human dark wizards.

She’d never really been comfortable ending human lives if it could be avoided. Yes, people _could_ be evil, but that didn’t mean they deserved to die. However, having seen what Voldemort and his followers were not only capable of doing but were _willing_ to do firsthand, she could forgive the scene of slaughter below her. She felt a strong hand on her shoulder and looked to see Angel standing beside her. She turned and hugged him tightly. The pair watched the mass execution passively.

Harry stepped back into the study to see the blonde and the vampire standing at the railing. He peered around the room and couldn’t see Faith or Voldemort anywhere. “Where’s Faith?” He asked, suddenly panicked.

Buffy and Angel both turned. “She disappeared with Voldemort.” Angel offered.

“We’re not sure where they went,” Buffy responded.

Harry narrowed his eyes. There was only one place that Voldemort would run to. And he, sadly, was very familiar with it. He’d left a large piece of himself there months ago. “I am.” He said, solemnly.


	43. Chapter 43

Faith leaned against the guardrail of the deserted highway and sighed heavily. She once again pulled her phone out and looked it over. She attempted to power it on to no avail. “Goddamn it.” She drew back to throw it but stopped. She instead shoved it into her pocket and again began walking. She’d been traveling for hours. The sun was starting to brighten the eastern horizon.

She could feel fatigue dragging at her. Her body was sore and she was tired as could be. But, sadly, she had miles to go before she would be able to find a phone. She knew she needed to call Harry to tell him she was alright. “He’s probably worried sick,” She said, solemnly. “God, I hope he’s alright.” She flicked her eyes skyward as she heard the sound of a distant helicopter. “How about a ride?” She asked, chuckling. She took a few more steps when a bright light was suddenly in her face. She closed her eyes and threw her hand up to block the harsh white glow. “Fuck, man.”

The chopper began growing closer. She squinted into the brightness. A rapid movement in front of the light caught her attention. “Faith!” She heard her name over the din of the helicopter engine.

Her hair began blowing to and fro. A heartbeat later, Harry dropped to the ground a few paces in front of her. He stood, his broom in his hand, haloed in the searchlight of the aircraft.

She felt tears form in her eyes. “Harry?” She asked, exhaustion in her voice. She took one step, then another. Soon she was running as fast as she could, eager to hold him again.

Harry dropped his broom and likewise rushed to her. Faith slid to a stop and threw her arms around him, pulling him in close. Harry followed suit, lifting her up and spinning her about, smiling brightly. “When I returned to the study to find you gone, I’d feared the worst.” He said between impassioned kisses.

“I’m never leaving you, baby.” She said to him, her voice quaking with emotion.

“Nor I, you.” Harry returned. He put an arm around her shoulder and pointed to the SA 342 Gazelle helicopter. “I’ve secured you a ride.”

Faith sighed and looked into his eyes. “God, I love you.” She said, softly.

Harry couldn’t hear her over the din of the chopper but then he didn’t have to. He escorted his girlfriend to the helicopter and climbed in beside her.

 

Faith slouched in the chair with her legs outstretched and her ankles crossed. She was absolutely knackered but knew she couldn’t sleep just yet. Those that had confronted Voldemort and the remainder of his inner circle had gathered in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. After the assault, all but Angel, Buffy, Giles, Wesley, and Harry had come back and fallen into bed.

The rest had sat up fretting over the missing slayer. Harry’s knowledge had been the key to locating her. She’d learned if she had stayed where she was, she would have been found much earlier. She’d heard the chopper most of the morning but hadn’t paid it any mind. If he’d have stopped and thought, it would have made sense. She shrugged the thoughts away and was just glad to be reunited with Harry. She turned to look at him. He had dragged his chair close to her and sat with his hand on her arm.

“What I don’t understand,” Moody began as he paced around the room with a sharp ‘click- _thunk_ ’ of his peg leg and walking stick. “Is what possible good having Voldemort’s corpse could do someone like Pettigrew.”

“Peter is a fool,” Sirius offered. “But he is resourceful. And of all of Voldemort’s followers, Peter was the only one that _actively_ tried finding him.” He shook his head. “He’s loyal. To a fault, he’s loyal. Hiding in plain sight for so long also proves he’s braver than any of us gave him credit for.”

“So what you’re saying,” Giles pulled his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We’ve got nothing to go on.”

“We know he’ll hide,” Angel said from his place against the wall. Buffy was right beside him, mimicking his stance with her arms and ankles crossed. “We just don’t know where.” He pointed to him and Buffy. “We spent last night hitting the streets, shaking loose some of my contacts from the bad old days and couldn’t come up with anything. Wherever he is, he’s deep underground.” Buffy nodded her agreement.

“Kingsley says that nearly two dozen of Voldemort’s followers have been arrested. And of those, more than half are offering information for leniency.” Tonks offered as she entered the kitchen. “Even Fudge is on board, now. He and the Wizengamot are holding an emergency session,” She looked at Harry and Faith. “I’m supposed to escort the pair of you to the Ministry as soon as possible.”

The slayer and the student both looked at the girl. “Why do they wanna talk to us?” Harry asked her.

“It isn’t just you,” Tonks said. “They’re also speaking with Dumbledore.”

“That’s strange, isn’t it?” Buffy asked, looking around the room. “Normally don’t these guys just like, hide from things like this? Try to pull the wool over people’s eyes and pretend it isn’t happening?”

Tonks shrugged and nodded. “Normally, yeah. I thought it sort of odd, too.”

“They don’t have any choice anymore,” Wesley said. Everyone looked at him. “Think about it. Both you and Mr. Shacklebolt came into their domain with a host of individuals that, at the very least, were doing who knows what in the Dark Lord’s name. That alone is enough to make the Wizengamot take notice. Couple that with the fact that an _extraordinary_ amount of magic was used, to say nothing of how many _Unforgivable Curses_ were thrown about and you have a situation that can no longer be ignored.”

“And you know damn well the Daily Prophet would have been all over that shit.” Faith commented. “It might be a newspaper that’s in the Ministry’s pockets but it’s still a newspaper and something like that, whether they have a gag order or not, it’s gonna hit the headlines. You know Luna’s dad is having a field day with it.”

“The Quibbler is a rag. No one pays attention to that trash.” Moody offered, dismissively.

“Don’t be so sure.” Giles piped in. “A person might be rational, intelligent, and capable of sorting fact from fiction but _people_ are panicky, dangerous, and mentally unstable as a collective. And there are more than you think that would see such headlines in even a scandalous publication like the Quibbler and believe it legitimate press.”

“So what does this have to do with anything?” Molly Weasley finally asked. She and her husband had been quiet up until then. Which Faith, personally, found to be the most shocking development of the night.

“The Minister has to control popular opinion.” This from Buffy. The room regarded her. “It’s about popularity.”

“Yeah, that’s a topic that’s _definitely_ in your wheelhouse.” Faith offered.

“Bite me, Boston,” Buffy said as she pushed away from the wall. “This all happened what? Seven, eight hours ago? Arrests have been made. Like Faith said, the press is gonna be all over it, if it isn’t already. Minister Fudge has to get out in front of it. The news is too big for him to just say it’s a few rabble-rousers. Too many people know the truth. And a lot of those people are gonna talk. So he has to be proactive. The best way to do that is to put the three people that have been the poster children for the crusade against Moldy-shorts front and center. Faith, Harry, and Dumbledore.” She shrugged. “By making them the media darlings, he’s securing his position as Minister.” She ticked off fingers as she explained further. “He humbles himself and congratulates the three of them while admitting that he’s fallible. But he can also learn from his mistakes. That makes him relatable. He puts all of the attention on these three so he can do whatever back-alley bullshit he wants without anyone noticing. Further strengthening his place in the Ministry. Then he makes a huge production of trials and sentencing those that were captured. He can either paint himself as a no-mercy, no quarter type and put all the dark wizards in the ground, or he can be seen as the merciful benevolent leader that is all about second chances.” She again leaned against the wall. “If Fudge is smart about this, he could come out looking like not only the leader the Ministry needs but the leader they deserve.”

“And here I just thought you were gonna talk about his fashion sense.” Faith said, grinning.

“Oh, don’t even get me started on the man’s wardrobe,” Buffy admitted.

“They’re waiting for you.” Tonks reminded the pair.

Faith yawned and rose to her feet. “Let us at least take showers, first. We both reek like billy goats.” She took Harry’s hand. “Come on, baby. You can wash my back.”

Molly frowned as she watched the pair leave the room. “They shouldn’t-,”

“Don’t,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “Not right now. They deserve this. They’ve earned it.”

The woman quieted and went about cooking breakfast.

 

Faith’s back pressed against the warm, wet tile. Harry leaned in, his lips pressed to hers. Their tongues danced as they kissed passionately. Her hands kneaded the hard packed muscle of her fiance’s back. They moved together in perfect rhythm.

Over the past several months, Faith had become addicted to Harry’s touch, his smell, his feel. To her, there was no greater pleasure. Since being called as a slayer, she’d found joy in the hunt, the kill. The primal nature of the slayer called to her. It had become what defined her. It was her reason for living, her calling. And it was a calling that she’d surrendered to, full stop. There were many that thought when she would say that being a slayer was what she was on the planet for, that she was getting down on herself.

Faith didn’t see it that way. She wasn’t being self-depreciating. To her, there was no greater gift. There were billions of girls on the planet to choose from, and the powers that be selected _her_. For that, she was – and always would be – eternally grateful.

But it was _this_. This sensation, at _this_ moment, that was the greatest of all things. The feel of a skilled lover, the feel of someone she not only cared about but _loved_ more than anyone. The touch of someone that knew her body in and out, bringing her pleasure that none had been able to elicit before. Simply put, nothing compared. And Faith was fairly certain that nothing ever would.

After several minutes, the pair shuddered in time as ecstasy took hold of the pair. Harry’s palm pressed against the wall, while her other hands rested on the flat of Faith’s back. His breath came in labored gasps as the last tremors of climax coursed through him.

Faith for her part was still trembling about him. Her own breathing matched his. “God, Harry…” She said, softly. She looked into his eyes as he regarded her. “I love you so fucking much.”

He gave her a warm smile. “I love you, too.” He leaned in and kissed her again. “We should finish up and get dressed. We have-,”

“No.” Faith said, shaking her head. “We’re done.”

Harry frowned, not understanding. “What do you mean, we’re done?”

“We’re not going to the Ministry. We’re not jumping through any more hoops. We’ve done our bit for king and country. We’re getting married like we planned to. Then we’re gonna have a goddamn honeymoon. A couple of weeks of cruising around Europe in my Trans Am, stopping every night in a different hotel so we can rest and I can rail the ever-loving shit out of you without having to worry about any of this bullshit.” She shook her head again. “We’ve fucking earned it. Both of us.” She felt hot tears and wiped them away. Throwing tradition to the wind, Faith got to one knee, right there in the shower. “I’m not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. I got baggage from hell, but-,”

“Yes,” Harry said, taking hold of her arms and lifting her to her feet. “You don’t even have to ask, Faith. Of course, I’ll marry you.” He kissed her fiercely once again. “Besides that, you’re sore and tired. You don’t need to be on your knees in the shower.”

Faith smiled at him. “Faith Potter.” She said to him. “I think I like that.”

“As do I.” He remarked.

The pair finished cleaning up and got dressed. Harry selected a simple pair of sweatpants and a tank top that showed off the work he’d been doing since Faith started working with him. His arms were taut and muscular, as was his chest and back. She was clad in a pair of shorts and a sleeveless tee.

They made their way downstairs and into the kitchen. Buffy and Angel had gone to bed, as had Giles and Wesley. Only Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Arthur and Molly were in attendance.

“Hey, Tonks?” Faith asked, curious about something. “Who’s holding down the class right now?”

“Moody. He apparated up as soon as you and Harry went upstairs. Neville is helping with the more physical stuff, but Mad-Eye is handling the academics.”

Faith remembered the marked difference the boy had made throughout the year. He had quickly become one of her star pupils. The boy had a knack for the physically demanding exercises. And Moody was a very accomplished wizard. She gave the girl a nod. “I’ll let it rest with them. That’s a good pairing.”

“I thought so.” Tonks offered.

“Harry? Faith?” Molly began, concern in her voice and on her face. “Why aren’t you dressed for your appointment?”

“Because we ain’t goin’.” Faith said. She took Harry’s hand and pulled him in close. “We’ve made some decisions.” She lifted a hand to forestall the woman. “I’m telling all of you now, this isn’t up for debate. It isn’t an invitation to start ballin’ us out or any of that crap. It’s us, telling everyone how it’s gonna be.” This statement earned a smile and a nod from Sirius Black but frowns from the rest of the group.

“We’re getting married!” Harry blurted happily.

The news obviously stunned everyone present. “That’s wonderful!” Sirius said, shooting to his feet. He pulled both Harry and Faith into a tight embrace. “Congratulations.” Emotion caused his voice to crack a bit.

Arthur likewise smiled, but Molly was absolutely _thunderstruck_. “You, you can’t.” She said, brows creased in frustration and confusion. “Neither of you is old enough to wed.”

Harry looked a touch sheepish and lowered his head. Faith, however, glared angrily. “That is a hell of a thing for you to say to us.” Her voice was low, cold, and hard. 

Molly physically stepped back at the force of Faith’s words. “I just don’t think-,”

“How dare you, Molly.” Faith snarled. “How-fucking- _dare_ -you.” She released Harry’s hand and stepped around the table to stand tall before the round Weasley matriarch. “We are _not_ children. And you need to stop treating us like it.”

Molly did her level best to meet Faith’s piercing gaze. “But you’re not adults, either.” She tapped her finger into Faith’s chest. “And _you_ need to stop thinking you are.” She leaned in closer, somewhat emboldened. “As far as the rest of the world is concerned, Faith, you and Harry _are_ still children. _You_ need to remember that.”

Faith growled and quickly snatched the front of the woman’s house gown. In a move so fast, it was almost a blur, the slayer had the woman bent over backward on the table and held firm. “You wanna see how fast this _child_ can kick the fucking shit out of you?” She had her fist cocked back, ready to let fly.

For several seconds, nobody moved. Molly stared up at the girl’s wild brown eyes. Her own life flashed before hers. Faith and Harry both had just been through hell. And now here she was lecturing the pair of them. While she felt she might be able to somewhat dictate to Harry about what was in his best interests, she’d _never_ had that right with Faith. Yet, the mother in her tried anyway. And at this moment, in this place, she’d given it her best. But in doing so, she now realized that she may very well have pushed the powerful brunette _too_ far.

Yes, she felt both Harry and Faith to be too young to do what they were doing, deep down she couldn’t logically argue with their _right_ to do so. She couldn’t even argue that they didn’t deserve the happiness they brought to each other. For they both most assuredly did.

But she knew, first hand, that marriage was a big step. It wasn’t something to be taken lightly. It was a commitment, as far as she was concerned, _for life_. Yes, divorces were rampant in Muggle society, but Harry wasn’t a Muggle. Far from it. And Faith, while being so initially, was no longer, simply by proximity if nothing else.

All of that aside, however, the girl was right. While legally, they might not be adults, the truth was both Harry and Faith had ceased being children quite some time ago. They’d both lost any true innocence they had left before she’d met either of them.

In Faith’s case, such was evidenced by the rage etched across her youthful face. She was willing to kill – to _murder_ – if it meant keeping Harry. Molly realized that now. It had finally sunk in.

Harry was quickly beside his fiancé as everyone else stood about, stunned. “It’s alright, Faith. Let her go.” He gripped the girl’s wrist. “She understands. Please, love. Let her go.”

Faith stared down at her a heartbeat longer. She then slammed her back hard on the table and let her go. She stepped back and turned, burying her face in Harry’s shoulder. “I’m done with this shit, Harry. I’m done with it all.”

“I know.” He said, holding her tight. He looked about the room. “We both agreed that we’re not going to meet with the Ministry. We’ve done our part. Voldemort is as good as dead. His inner circle has been destroyed, he’s fresh out of followers. He’s not a viable threat any longer. Professor Dumbledore and the Order can finish up with him.” He shook his head. “Faith and I are done.”

Arthur and Tonks looked at each other, not sure what to do. “What um,” Arthur ran his fingers through his red hair. “What do we tell the Minister? The summons comes from him directly.”

“I’ll pen a letter you can give him,” Harry said. “We’ve done enough.”

“Yes, you have,” Sirius said, proudly. “Enough of that, now.” He stepped over and rested a hand on the young lovers’ shoulders. “I have a God-son and future God-daughter’s wedding to plan.” He looked at Molly, who was still rubbing the front of her chest where Faith had grabbed her. “Would you be willing to help?”

The woman looked from him to her husband and to Faith. Her expression was sad. “I think I’ve worn out my welcome as far as Faith is concerned. I don’t want to meddle. Seeing how badly we’ve all cocked up in Harry’s life thus far,” She turned and embraced her husband. She pressed her face into his broad shoulder and began sobbing. “I haven’t the right.”

Harry moved to speak, but Faith stayed him with a hand on his shoulder. As he looked down at her, she shook her head. She then moved over to Molly and rested a hand on her back. “Hey.” She said, softly. “Come on, Moll. Look at me.” The woman did so. “If you wanna be a part of me and Harry’s wedding, I’d be cool with that. I mean, my mom is dead. I’m gonna need someone to give me away. No reason it can’t be you, you know?”

Molly sniffed and turned to look at her full on. “I, I just thought-,”

Faith chuckled as she put her finger against the woman’s lips. “Then I guess you gotta stop doin’ that, huh?” Her playful and humorous tone stole any insult the words might have held. She pulled her hand away as Molly started to smile. “There it is.” The woman’s grin widened. “I know we don’t always agree on everything. I’m a first class bitch. I know that and so do you. You only want the best for Harry. I get that. It’s kind of nice to see. I mean, I’m not gonna lie, you all suck at it, but you’re trying. That’s a hell of a lot more than some other kids get, and a hell of a lot more than I got. But you gotta understand, that’s what _I_  want, too. But I also want to make him _happy_. God knows he deserves it.”

“I know, Faith. I do. But you’re both so _young_.” She took the girl’s hands. “Marriage is a _huge_ step. And I want to make absolutely sure that the pair of you know what you’re getting yourselves into.”

Faith smiled at the woman. “We got a shining example of a marriage done right, now don’t we?” She flicked her eyes from Molly to Arthur and back. “I mean you guys have seven kids.” She thumbed toward Arthur. “He’s gotta be doin’ somethin’ right.” That caused both of the Weasley parents to smile and blush. “Harry wants you in his life.” Faith hugged Molly. “That means I do, too.”

“Alright.” She returned Faith’s embrace. She held her hand out to Harry, who took it immediately. “Let’s get the pair of you wed, shall we?”

“I ain’t wearin’ white.” Faith said, sternly.

Molly laughed. “Faith, dear? I’d be surprised if I can even get you in a dress at all.”

“Better be a rockin’ dress.” The slayer.

“Don’t worry,” Molly said, smiling. “Every girl might be crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man, but women have got legs and we know how to use them.”

Faith leaned back and stared at Molly in surprise. “Serious bonus points for the gratuitous rock reference.”

“I’m rather fond of ZZ Top.” Molly offered.

“I would not have guessed.” Faith returned.

“Most people don’t dear.” The woman said, cheerfully.


	44. Chapter 44

**Epilogue.**

Cordelia sat in her office, packing away her things. She paused to look around the room and sighed with satisfaction. She again lifted the parchment she’d received earlier in the morning. Buffy, Angel, Wesley, and Giles had managed to find the last Horcrux and were en route to Hogwarts to see it destroyed. Soon, the fight would be over. She nodded and went back to packing. She started at the knock on the door. “It’s open.” She said as she continued working.

The door pushed open and the large form of Rubeus Hagrid squeezed through. Cordy watched him with a smile. Over the past few months, she actually has grown quite close to the half-giant. On many occasions, she’d met him in his small cottage for tea. When he’d first entertained her – a surprise visit from her, on Harry and Faith’s recommendation – he’d been somewhat embarrassed about the state his hovel was in.

And if Cordelia were to be honest with herself, a year ago, she’d have been disgusted with its arrangement. But life had forced the ex-cheerleader to reevaluate her attitude and her perception. So she viewed his home was very much, well, Hagrid. It was rustic, functional, practical and, despite the rather prominent wet dog smell, quite homey and comfortable. She’d oddly found it relaxing.

She even liked Fang, in spite of him being what she called a “slobber factory”. What _really_ made her fall for the big lug was his hands. After a stressful day, she would come to his cottage and he’d put those massive hands to work massaging the stiffness from her shoulders, back, and legs.

When back in Los Angeles, she’d put out the money for expensive masseuses and masseurs and felt it money well spent. But what the mammoth gamekeeper was capable of was beyond anything she’d ever felt. She’d watched him on occasion crush rock with his bare hands. Yet, with her, he showed a gentility that, frankly, she wasn’t aware he was even capable of.

She gave him a warm and inviting smile. “Hello, Hagrid.” She said, happily. She moved around and hugged him tightly. “What brings you by?”

He enveloped her in his massive arms. “Dumbledore said ye was leavin’ soon.” He responded, emotion causing his voice to quiver. “Thought I’d, um, come say goodbye.”

She pulled back and looked up at him. She could see a touch of hurt in his eyes, as well as a few tears. She moved behind her desk, grabbed her office chair, carried it around and set it in front of him. She then stood on it and looked him in the face. She reached out and caressed the tears from his ruddy cheeks. “You _honestly_ didn’t think I was going to leave without coming to see my big ol’ teddy bear, did you?” She asked him.

He sniffed and wiped his nose. “I, er, um, I didn’t wanna make no assumptions or anythin’.”

Cordy giggled and playfully swatted him on the arm. “Dork.” She said to him. “If not for you, I don’t think I’d have made it through these last few months. You’ve been a Godsend, Hagrid.” She hugged him again. “Thank you.”

“It’s been my pleasure, Miss Cordelia.” He said, cheerfully. He reached into his heavy fur coat and pulled out a small wooden box. “I um, I got this for ya. It’s nothin’ special, but I thought you might like it. Reminded me of ya when I was at Diagon Alley.”

She dropped from the chair and put it back before taking the box. The wood encasement itself was exquisitely carved ebony with small red streaks through the wood. “This is beautiful.” She said to him.

“The gift’s inside. That’s just a box,” Hagrid said.

 _Just a box my ass_ , Cordy thought. She knew the case alone would be worth hundreds back in the states. She carefully opened it and was completely thunderstruck. For several seconds she was rendered absolutely speechless. It was the most beautiful pendant she’d ever seen.

A piercing blue sapphire the size of a plum with a polished silver setting, attached to a long silver chain lay upon a bed of deep maroon felt. That, in and of itself would have been stunning enough, but the beauty of the object didn’t stop there. A magical image permeated the stone. Within its depths, a dragon with scales of sparkling gold soared effortlessly through a majestic azure sky. It took her breath away.

For almost a minute straight, she just stared at it. Finally, she lifted her eyes to look at him. “Hagrid, I…” She became misty-eyed as she gazed at him.

“Do ye not like it?” He asked, sheepishly.

“It’s _beautiful_.” She shook her head. “I’ve never had anyone give me anything like this before.”

He smiled at her reaction. “Jus’ thought it was somethin’ ye’d like.” He said.

She reached up and took hold of his thick beard and pulled his face down, kissing him firmly on the lips. Normally, she hated men with so much facial hair but at that moment, she didn’t give a damn. “Dinner. Tonight. Your cabin.” She said, sternly.

Hagrid nodded. “I’d love to.”

“Good.” She returned.

He exited her office and immediately made his way to Hogsmead and to the butcher shop. He had a meal to prepare. And he was bound and determined to do it right.

He spent the rest of the day cleaning his cabin, making sure everything was put where it should be. Potatoes with a heavy helping of garlic and wild scallions boiled away on the fire. The two large beef steaks he’d purchased, rubbed down with a combination of cayenne pepper, cumin and rock salt sizzled low and slow on the large grill. He then rose up and examined the large fresh corn cobs as they heated through.

He’d taken precautions and chained Fang up outside for the evening. The huge dog hated being so sequestered, but Hagrid didn’t want Cordelia to have to deal with getting slobbered all over. He wasn’t ashamed of Fang. Quite the opposite, in fact. He loved the dog. But that didn’t mean he didn’t understand that others weren’t so keen on him. Cordy was always nice to him and offered him plenty of scratches and pets when she was around.

Suddenly, he heard the massive boarhound begin baying and howling. He heard Cordelia’s soft dulcet tones calming the huge canine down. He smiled and wiped his hands on his apron before moving to the door. As he reached for the handle, a crisp knock sounded out. He pulled it open to see Cordelia standing in a long black overcoat and pair of sensible flats. Her hair looked to be still wet from the shower. It had grown out a touch since she came to Hogwarts. Hagrid personally loved long flowing hair on a woman. He thought Faith had beautiful hair. But since working with her, he’d found Cordelia to just be…she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. And that she trusted him not to hurt her when he rubbed her back and shoulders meant the world to him. She was one of the few people in the world that didn’t take him for granted. Cordelia seemed to genuinely appreciate him. That made him feel incredible. “Come in,” He said, stepping aside for her. She entered and moved so he could close the door. He pushed it closed, sliding the bolt back. “The steaks are about done. The potatoes and corn are-,” He turned around and stopped cold. As he was locking his door, Cordelia had removed her coat and tossed it aside.

As Cordy was stricken speechless by the gift of the pendant that now hung about her neck, so too was Hagrid rendered thus.

Beneath her coat, she wore a black lace bra with matching panties…and nothing else. “Why don’t we skip dinner?” She asked him with a demure smile. For a few weeks, she’d been agonizing over whether or not to pursue this with the huge man. She knew he could be gentle. What she didn’t know was just how…well endowed he would be. _We’re gonna find out_ , she thought. She sauntered over to him and once again pulled his face down, kissing him intently. She was fairly shocked when he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her from the floor, bringing her up to his level. She threw her own arms about his neck and melted into the embrace. God _, he can kiss_. Reluctantly, she drew back and stared into his eyes. “Don’t wanna insult you or anything but have you ever…you know?”

Hagrid smiled, letting her know he wasn’t at all offended. “Tend not to get a lot o’ ‘tention from most women like yerself. But did spend last summer with Olympe. When we were together, we shared some intimacy.”

“Good to know,” Cordy said, happily. “Because we’re about to share some intimacy of our own.” She then bit her lip. “But please remember. I’m not a half-giant like she is. You’ve already proven that you can be, but I feel it fair to reiterate the point. Be gentle with me.”

He effortlessly carried her over to the bed and lay her down. “Always, Miss Cordelia. Always.” The look of appreciation and admiration in Hagrid’s eyes at that moment made Cordy’s heart light. No one had ever looked at her like that before.

And he proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt that he could be as gentle as a feather. As Hagrid used everything he had, he’d managed to do what no lover Cordelia had before had been able to…for the second time. As the pair made love, once again, Cordelia Chase was speechless.

The pair broke from their carnal activity to eat the overcooked steaks, the scorched potatoes and the dry, tasteless corn in good humor. Hagrid had even purchased a nice bottle of wine – which tasted less like wine and more like grape-flavored cough syrup with a kick – and shared it with her. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but she humored him and nursed a glass. It wasn’t horrible, it just wasn’t her thing.

As the night wore on, Hagrid finally fell asleep. His deep, rhythmic snoring, she actually found quite relaxing. As she lay with her back nestled against him, her head resting on his thick, knotted arm, covered in a heavy fur blanket that smelled of the deep, wet woods, dog dander, pipe smoke, and spiced dried meat…she realized she didn’t miss Los Angeles anymore. Yes, she liked the hustle and the bustle of the big city but…a life like _this_ also appealed to her. She reached over onto the large barrel that Hagrid used for a nightstand and lifted her smartphone. She stared at it a moment, then nodded. She tapped away for a few seconds and smiled. She set the phone back down and snuggled back against him a little more.

The money she’d paid for her plane ticket back to Los Angeles would be back in her account by morning.

Albus Dumbledore couldn’t help but smile as he entered the massive courtroom. It had been nearly a year since he last set foot in the antiquated chamber. The entirety of the Wizengamot – minus one particular face, of which no one missed – stared down at him. “Where are Mr. Potter and Miss Lehane? They were to be in attendance with you. We requested your presence nearly two months ago.” It was quite obvious that Minister Fudge, and indeed the entirety of the Wizengamot was quite non-plussed to be kept waiting.

Dumbledore nodded. “That was what your summons requested, yes.” He moved over and took a seat in the large chair in the middle of the floor. “But they’ve decided not to attend for… _personal_ reasons.” He reached into his robes and removed a scroll. “Harry was, however kind enough to pen a letter that he wished me to read to you in lieu of his presence.”

“This is highly irregular,” this from Amelia Bones. “When the Wizengamot requests someone’s presence-,”

Dumbledore cleared his throat to interrupt her. “Be that as it may, Madam Bones, Harry and Faith will not be attending.” He removed a pair of reading spectacles from his robe and set them just so on his nose. “Dear Minister Fudge and Ladies and Gentlemen of the Wizengamot.” Dumbledore chuckled. “Eloquent start,” He said, nodding. “I understand your summons was most urgent. Be that as it may, my fiancé and I have declined your invitation as we have more pressing duties to attend to. I know you are not used to those that you somehow see as beneath you bucking your authority and thinking for themselves. That is your cross to bear and you must find a way to square with that. For the past five years, I have been the target of mad Wizards, assassination attempts, smear campaigns, curses, mythical beasts, manipulative machinations meant for me to be in the right place at the right time,” Dumbledore sighed and looked up at the collection of Wizards. “Sadly, it is me he is referring to there.” A murmur ran through the Wizengamot. He continued reading. “And for over four of those years, I was ill-trained, ill-equipped, and ill-prepared for what I was being asked to do. Until I met Faith. Since meeting her, I’ve been fighting a fair fight. With her by my side, and a few close friends, we’ve managed to once again beat back the darkness. We’ve once again banished the Dark Lord Voldemort to the crushing black. But we understand, just as you should, that he is not gone forever. He was supposedly destroyed once before. And he managed to return. But this time, there is an inherent difference. Now, we have far more resources, far more tools at our disposal than we used to. If you are indeed the Minister you claim to be, the Minister that Wizarding Britain so desperately _needs_ you to be, you will avail yourself of them. But Faith and I have done enough. We have served Queen and country and are now free to pursue _our_ desires. Sincerely Yours, Harry Potter and Faith Lehane.” He removed his glasses and rose to his feet. “I believe that explains everything rather succinctly.” He padded over to the bench and placed the scroll in front of Fudge. “For your records, Minister.”

Fudge took it and looked it over. “I believe our summons was rather clear.” He turned to look at Amelia to his right, offering her the sheaf of paper. “If he thinks he can simply pen a note, he’s-,”

“He is well within his rights to do so,” Dumbledore said, simply. “Given all he has been through, and the remarkable strides Faith has made in the short time since coming to England, they are deserving of time on their own, don’t you agree?”

“But we have questions,” Amelia said, setting the paper down. “There are still concerns regarding the events at Malfoy Manor. We also want to know what, if any involvement Faith may have in the disappearance of Undersecretary Umbridge.”

“I believe I can shed some light on that.” A crisp British voice offered from the entrance of the courtroom.

Everyone’s eyes turned to the newest arrival. He was a tall, well-built man with a head of thinning grey hair, a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee, and a meticulously tailored tweed suit. He moved with a confidence of a man that feared absolutely nothing. He strolled without a care in the world, taking his place beside Dumbledore. “Minster Fudge, ladies, and gentlemen, may I present Quentin Travers, director of the Watcher’s Council.”

A ripple of hushed discussion flowed through the ruling body. Fudge spoke quietly with Bones for a moment before directing his attention toward the British gentleman. “What information do you have regarding Madam Umbridge? Do you know what happened to her?”

Quentin nodded. “Indeed I do, Minister.” He crossed his arms. It didn’t go unnoticed that the thickness of his arms threatened the weave of his jacket. “I had her eliminated.”

For a heartbeat, there was stunned silence. When Dumbledore had contacted the man about appearing before the Wizengamot on Faith’s behalf, the man had broached the idea of coming clean about what he ordered done with Umbridge. Dumbledore, of course, thought this folly. The Wizengamot didn’t like what they perceived as muggles interfering in Wizarding affairs. They would take the murder of one of their own even less favorably. Quentin’s reasoning was simple. “If they wish to hate someone, I would rather it be me than a teenage girl doing everything she can to atone for a far from laudable past. If they require a villain, I shall give them one.”

Dumbledore couldn’t fault the man’s logic. By admitting what he’d had done, it took all of the attention from Faith and put it squarely on him.

After a breath, the Wizengamot erupted into anarchy. Many shouted and raged, fielding questions such as “What gives you the right to pass judgment on a member of this court?” and “Who do you think you are?”

Quentin, more than familiar with the principal members of the court, noticed that Amelia Bones remained silent. The woman simply stared at him over her steepled fingers. _She’s a cool head, this one_ , Quentin thought with appreciation. “Are you quite finished?” He asked loudly.

Minister Fudge managed to regain control and turned to the man. “You are admitting to murder, Mr. Travers. You do realize that.”

Quentin unfurled his arms and nonchalantly straightened his sleeve. “You would do well to remember something, Minister,” he then adjusted his suit coat. He lifted his eyes to the man. “I don’t answer to you,” he said shaking his head. “I report directly to the Prime Minister and likewise have the ear of the Queen.”

“The Queen is-,” Fudge began.

“Far from the figurehead people believe her to be, Minister. Have a care how you speak. We are on quite amicable terms. I consider her a close friend and will brook no ill talk of her.” He sighed and began pacing with his hands behind his back. “Be that as it may, my extermination of Dolores Umbridge was sanctioned by the director of Her Majesty’s Secret Service.” He turned to Fudge. “Completely authorized.” He stopped and stared at each and every one of them. “It needs to be understood right here, right now, Minister. All of you should remember this.” He made sure he had their attention. “Britain’s wizarding community exists at the government’s sufferance. You lot have been tolerated because you largely police your own.” He stepped closer. “Grindelwald was dealt with by Headmaster Dumbledore here before he could make too much of a nuisance of himself,” he motioned to the elder wizard. “But Lord Voldemort caught attention with his antics, Minister Fudge.” He narrowed his eyes. “More appropriately _our_ attention.”

“But that doesn’t explain why-,” One of the many other wizards began.

“We eliminated her because you, as a governing body, failed. Dolores Umbridge attempted to assassinate young Harry.”

“You have no proof.” Minister Fudge snapped. “You are merely speculating.”

“You have all the proof you need right in front of you,” Quentin said. “Let me lay the facts out for you. You know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Harry Potter cast the Patronus Charm at nine twenty-three PM on August the 2nd of last year. As I doubt very much that there were any Lethifolds, that would only leave one reason why Harry would cast the Patronus Charm. Dementors. And given that you, the Wizengamot as a whole are in direct command of the Dementors – unless they’ve somehow slipped your control,” He gauged their reactions and saw all of them pale at the thought. Satisfied, he continued. “I thought not. Given the late Undersecretary’s rather…vocal disapproval of Harry and Headmaster Dumbledore, it becomes abundantly clear her role in Harry’s earlier assault.”

“This is all just conjecture and speculation. It isn’t sufficient _proof_ ,” Fudge said, angrily.

“She knew that Harry Potter has been attacked by Dementors before and that they have shown a particular interest in the boy. She also knew that he feared nothing more so than the Dementors given how little happiness the boy had in his life. That makes the Dementor’s kiss even more hurtful to Harry. And then, during his trial, she put him on the spot by trying to play him directly against the Wizengamot and vice versa.” He sighed and shrugged. “But I agree, from a more… _uneducated_ perspective this would all seem very circumstantial.” He gave a smug grin. “Fortunately for everyone involved, it wasn’t your call.”

Minister Fudge and the rest of the Wizengamot was forced to accept the events as they were. “Where are Harry and Faith now?” The man asked.

“Haven’t a clue,” Quentin said, smiling.

“There are still questions I’d like answers to.” Fudge demanded.

Quentin turned on his heel, considering the discussion at an end. “Get used to disappointment, Minister Fudge.” The stoic Watcher left the courtroom, leaving Dumbledore smiling, and Minister Fudge fuming.

Cornelius turned to Dumbledore. “I demand that you-,”

The elder Wizard interrupted him with a dismissive wave of the hand. “You demand nothing, Minister. While you might be powerful in Wizarding circles, Harry and Faith have grown beyond your sphere of influence.”

“How do you mean?” This, again from Amelia Bones. “Mr. Potter and Miss Lehane have-,”

“I suppose now would be a good time to correct you,” Dumbledore said, his face brightening. “It’s Mr. and Mrs. Potter, now.”

Everyone on the Wizengamot was surprised by the news. “They’ve wed, have they?”

“Indeed they have,” Dumbledore said. “It was quite a ceremony. Faith looked quite lovely.”

“And where are they now?” Fudge asked again, the wind somewhat blown from his sails.

“Somewhere in continental Europe, I would imagine,” Dumbledore said. “I wouldn’t know, honestly. They’ve requested to be left alone. I saw no reason not to grant the request.”  

 

Faith had a huge grin on her face as she sped along the unrestricted Audubon. The sun was shining, cool wind whipped her thick chocolate brown hair to and fro. She’d removed the Targa roof from the car and lazed with her arm resting on the door while her other hand was on the wheel. The rumble of her Trans Am’s powerplant offered a fantastic soundtrack as she raced along at speeds hovering around a hundred and ten. She looked at the fuel gauge and smiled. They’d just tanked up and had miles of highway with no speed limit in front of them.

She looked down at the golden ring on her finger and chuckled. She never thought in a million years that she would get married. She turned to gaze at her husband.

Harry sat with his arm resting on the open window, staring out at the passing vista. He was drumming his fingers slightly to the beat of the music flowing from the speakers. He could feel her looking at him and met her eyes. He smiled lovingly at her. “You’re beautiful, did you know that?” He asked her.

“This guy I know with glasses and a crumpet-filled accent keeps saying that.” Faith said, returning her eyes to the road. She whipped past a freight truck.

“You know, I don’t even like crumpets.” Harry offered.

“That’s just an English Muffin, isn’t it?” Faith asked him.

“Sort of. Not quite as good as an English Muffin in my opinion. But unless it has eggs, cheese, and sausage, ham, or bacon on it, I’ll pass.”

Faith chuckled. “See? Now I’m hungry.”

“When are you not?” Harry asked her.

“When I’m fuckin’ you.” She said to him.

“Wow,” Harry said, grinning. “I must be good if I can take your mind off of food for even the briefest of moments.”

Faith narrowed her eyes. “You ever been thrown out of a speeding car?”

“I’ve been knocked off of a fast-flying broom before. Does that count?” Harry asked, the smile never leaving his face.

“Remind me why I married you, again?” She asked, sarcastically.

“My razor sharp wit, my devilish good looks and my incredible prowess between the sheets,” Harry responded.

Faith looked at him and shook her head as she laughed out loud. “Fuckin’ smartass.”

“I’ve been sleeping next to you for the past year. Something is bound to rub off.”

Faith nodded. “And we do rub pretty hard.”

“See? Now I’m _horny_.” Harry said to her.

“There’s a small town just up here. Chances are they have a hotel.” She said, smirking at him.

“If we’re lucky, they may also have a vampire problem. This _is_ Germany, after all.” Harry said, happily. “It’ll give you a chance to use the new wedding gifts Sirius gave you.”

Faith risked a look into the backseat. The large beautifully crafted wooden case housed two of the most ornate goblin-forged knives she’d ever seen. He’d had them made personally for her. They fit her hands _perfectly_. “That would be awesome.” She said, returning to her driving. “Do kinda wonder where my other one ended up, though. Besides buried in Peter Pettigrew’s back.”

“Lord only knows,” Harry responded.

 

She moved through the tall grass, pushing the blades aside as she walked. Her night vision goggles tinted the surrounding area a vivid emerald green. She was beginning to lose hope when she nearly tripped over what she was looking for. “Yeah…you’re not walkin’ that off.” She said, grinning. She reached down and gripped the hilt of the large Bowie knife and pulled. For several seconds, it didn’t move. “Christ on a fucking crutch.” With a tearing, squelching sound, the blade slipped free. Blood shot into the air as she staggered back. “That son of a bitch was _in there_.” She looked the weapon over and nodded. “Nice knife.” She pushed the short, fat man aside and saw the black-clad figure beneath.

She lifted her goggles and then removed the balaclava mask she was wearing…to reveal nothing beneath.

She reached up and touched her ear. “This is Special Agent Marcie Ross.”

“Go ahead, Agent Ross.” The gruff voice of General George Haviland returned.

She stared down at the pale slender figure in the heavy black robes. “I found him, sir. Right where Miss Morgan said he’d be.”

“Very good, Agent. Well done. Prep the body for immediate evac.” The General commanded.

“You got it, sir,” Marcie said, smiling.


End file.
